Close Encounters 19
by chezchuckles
Summary: Thunderball. Now that they have a name, Spy Castle and Beckett work to clean up their department while keeping certain secrets.
1. Chapter 1

**Close Encounters 19: Thunderball**

* * *

for Jessie, who actually _likes_ James, despite herself  
(you know you do)  
and for Jocelyn, whose enthusiasm is as amazing as her skill

* * *

**Programming Note:** In my delirious Parisian excitement, I forgot to edit a rather massive error in CE18 - namely, that the mole in the CIA is not Ken Marshall, random flunkie, but Ken *Walker*, the man who helped Castle locate Beckett in a previous story. I had used Marshall as a placeholder name until I could go back and research the man's name and then promptly forgot I'd done that. Please forgive me. I've edited CE18 to reflect the correct name. Suffice it to say, same guy, but he's Walker.

* * *

"You okay?" Castle murmured against her neck.

"More than," she smiled softly.

He squeezed and let her go, and then Kate Beckett turned and opened the interrogation room door.

On the other side sat Ken Walker, dark hair and grey eyes, in a mussed white dress shirt with his collar open. The room was warm, exceedingly so, but Walker wasn't a professional. He'd already drank the offered water they had laced with a version of sodium pentothal. He looked ready for a chat.

"Beckett," Walker said when she entered. "First friendly face I've seen in a while. What's going on? If you tell me what's wrong, I can help clear this up. Whatever it is."

She sat down opposite him at the metal table. She and Castle had taken a series of flights to get back into the States, but it had only been a matter of days since Walker had been pulled for questioning.

His tongue was a little loose, making his hard consonants soft, but he truly didn't look worried.

He didn't have the look that Deleware had given her all through the ordeal in Tunisia - like he saw something he loathed. Walker was smiling, relief at seeing her.

"Walker," she said quietly.

"Yeah," he answered, a little eager even. No one had been allowed inside, no one could speak to him. Ryan and Esposito had even kept away. "Look, Agent Beckett, I'm not sure what's going on here. I really - this is interrogation tactics, and I'm pretty sure there was something in that water, cause I feel real loose, but I don't know _why_."

"You work for the CIA, Walker," she said.

He swallowed but then he shook his head. "I know - always have known that - but what I mean is... since you and Castle have taken over, everyone talks about how it's like a family now. How we protect our own. We go after guys lost in the field and we never leave a man..."

She felt a moment's sharp pride that people thought it had so changed, that it was a place no longer solely about political maneuvering, that the people in their division assumed they'd be taken care of.

"Walker, we protect our own," she answered. She sat back in her chair to put distance between them, and she let her hesitation show. Conflicting body language that his brain would interpret as Beckett doing her job but not liking it. She wanted to play the role of a friend for as long as possible; she was sure he'd talk more willingly that way.

"So why am I here?" he pleaded.

"You've been aiding the enemy," she answered. She let her voice be certain, final, and Walker flinched. There was some responsibility there; he felt culpable for something. "Walker, he's already told us. He gave you up for a deal."

"Gave me... who? Who gave me up?"

She remained silent, her silence condemning and all-knowing, and it actually worked. He sat back with a startled noise but there was only confusion on his face.

"Are you talking about AIC Black? I don't... understand. He said it had to remain off-book for your safety. You and Agent Castle both. He said the program-"

Here it seemed to finally dawn on Walker that he was in deep trouble, that Black had played him somehow, and he shut his mouth, closing his eyes. His head tilted back and Beckett had a moment's doubt that her boys hadn't searched Walker as thoroughly as they should have.

Poison capsule in the teeth might-

But no, Walker opened his eyes again and gave her a bleak look. "I guess... I need a lawyer."

"Walker, this is the CIA. Lawyers don't have high enough security clearance."

"Oh, fuck," he whispered. His hands, which hadn't been cuffed, came to the table top and pressed hard. He was swallowing; he looked like he might be sick. "I'm done. Aren't I? One... they _said_ don't trust anyone, not even the guys who sit next to you, but I really thought this department was different. I really thought I could trust the guy next to me."

Trust the guy _next_ to him?

Beckett made a gesture with her finger on the table and she knew Castle would be running that down ASAP. Because while Black had been forthcoming in giving up his mole, neither she nor Castle believed he was the only man working for the former director.

"You do realize that Black was ousted from his position and arrested to stand trial? That he has tried numerous times to kill me? That Castle doesn't trust him and he's no longer allowed clearance?"

"No. Not - not for real." Walker wiped a hand down his face and spoke from behind his palm. "He said he was working under the Director's orders. That his arrest was a fake to let him go off-grid. And he was working at the behest of the Director. I asked. When you were in Russia, he was your handler-"

Never mind that 'handler' implied protection and back-up that Black hadn't given, the Director still hadn't had any further dealings with Black once the man had been arrested. Someone had fed Walker bad information, or at least someone had confirmed that bad intel that Black himself had told the data analyst.

"But, Walker, you weren't here during that time. You were in a different division. Castle brought you to the Eastern Europe department because he thought he could trust you. We thought we could trust you."

"You _can_," he cried out. "You just - why don't you _tell_ people these things? You were supposed to be different. This was supposed to be a place where we could _work_ together."

"What do you mean?"

"If it wasn't such a damn secret then maybe I'd have known that he'd been arrested for real, that he wanted to _kill_ you. Wait," Walker said suddenly, straightening up. "That can't be right. It's Black who told me that the Westies were-"

Walker shut his mouth, closed his eyes, shook his head. His self-preservation instinct was kicking in against the medication they'd slipped into his water. He pressed his hand to his eyes and seemed to be trying to collect himself.

Kate couldn't let that happen. "He tried to have Senator Bracken kill me. You've heard how he was involved with the mafia? Well, Black told Bracken that I was going to expose him - that I had been the one to uncover his dealings and that he was going to stand trial for it. So Bracken came after me."

"No," Walker muttered, pushing his thumb and finger into his closed lids. "No. That doesn't - he told me where - he said the Westies had you. That was his intel."

"Black told you that the Westies had helped Bracken? Why would he do that, Walker?"

"Because you were in trouble - you were kidnapped. Everyone knew. He was trying to _help_."

"Or he gave you just enough information so that you'd give him a whole lot more in return. He gave you just enough to get you on scene for his grand finale. Kill two birds with one stone, right? I'd be dead and his nemesis, Bracken, would be under arrest for my murder."

"No we _saved_ you."

"Who?" she said fiercely. "You saved me? No, I saved myself. Haven't you heard the news lately, Walker? I shot Senator Bracken and I killed him. No one saved me."

She knew it was killing Castle to hear like that, but Walker crumpled. He pushed his hands into his face and hid his eyes, his shoulders hunched. She kept going.

"Black sent you to be witnesses to my execution. And you happily led my husband straight to the scene of the crime. You-"

"No," he yelled, shooting to his feet and panting, fists clenched. The door was already coming open and Castle spilling inside, but Kate stood and pushed her way between them, certain that the analyst was no threat.

"Agent Walker, sit down."

Walker sank to his chair and stared up at them with his horror clearly splashed across his face. He looked pale, weak suddenly, broken. "We were saving you," he choked out. "We got the rest of them, didn't we? We saved you."

"Walker. I'm going to give you a yellow legal pad and a pen," she said softly. "And you're going to write down everything he told you."

"What about.. what about the stuff I told him?" Walker croaked. He looked done in.

"We'll get to that later," Kate said, interrupting Castle before he could start. She put her hand on Walker's shoulder. "For now, just the things he told you. It's not treasonous to listen to him, only to help him."

Walker flinched but nodded, and he gave her a hopeful look.

Kate turned and left him with that hope even as Castle glowered. She pushed her husband out of the room ahead of her, spoke to the agent in the hall as the door closed behind them. "Please get Agent Walker a notepad and a soft writing utensil. No pencil, no pen - one of the special ones."

"Yes, ma'am," the agent said, moving off smartly.

Castle burst out with it the moment they were alone. "You're letting him go," he hissed. "You're going to-"

"He's the same as Ren," she said quickly, shutting him up. "Now Walker knows better than anyone what it is to be betrayed so badly. To fall for it. He knows better. Just like Reynolds knows better, like _Mitch_ knows better."

"Mitch?"

"All those times he took your father's side," she said quietly.

"That's been paid in full," Castle growled at her. "Forgiven. Forgotten. Over. Kate, this isn't like you. What happened to the woman who gave me a sense of right and wrong? Who insisted the world - and the CIA - couldn't be filled with so many ambiguous greys?"

"There's justice, and then there's mercy, Castle. He doesn't deserve the letter of the law just because he didn't _know_ any better."

"That's bogus and you know it," Castle shot back, crossing his arms. "Ignorance of the law is no defense."

She shook her head, reached up to uncross his arms, draw them down. "Yeah? And what about me?"

"What about you?"

"The times I've helped him. Gone straight to him - helped him escape. What happens when I'm the one who needs mercy?"

"You didn't-"

She pressed her fingers to his mouth to keep him from twisting out of it with a lie. It was only the truth; she had bent her morals to suit her needs, compromised herself - in an effort to save her husband's life. "We know my line," she whispered. "We know the price for my integrity. It would be hypocritical to refuse to allow Walker the same mercy - you heard him in there, Rick. He thought he was helping us."

"There is a capture/kill order out on Black. We've made that clear. Walker chose the wrong side."

"Baby, he chose our side," she laughed softly. He didn't look amused; she tried to mask her face, be serious again. "He's right, you know. We kept piling on the lies rather than come right out and say it. He wouldn't have had clearance for it, true, but he's right. We should tell the people in our division what your father is capable of, and what he can do."

"Kate, I love you, but you're killing me."

She bit her bottom lip and squeezed his arm. "No, I'm not. Been there, done that. We need to brief the division. They deserve to know what's happened - and they deserve to know that Walker, a guy they like and trust, is going to be okay."

"He can't stay here."

"I think Mitchell could use a good man for his security firm."

Castle groaned and sank back against the wall. "Woman."

"You know I'm right. We handle our own. And maybe someone comes up to us and says, Hey, I was scared to say this before, but now that I know I'll be okay..."

Castle lifted his gaze to hers. "You think there are others."

"I'm pretty sure there have to be."

"Me too," he said grimly.

She waited.

"All right," he rasped. "We handle our own mistakes. I'll - figure out a way to brief the division about Black. No mention of our separate issues."

He flicked his finger towards her stomach, encompassing everything in that small gesture. She had to restrain herself from touching the place where their little wolf was growing, and she smiled at Castle instead.

"Thanks, Rick. What do you want me to tell Walker?"

"Debrief him. Get everything you can on what he's told Black, but nothing in writing. It'll be recorded, but no official statement. I'll call Mitch and give him temporary clearance to the main floor, and we'll transfer custody."

"I don't think you should call it that."

"Fine. Whatever. Just - let Mitch deal with him."

She smiled brilliantly at her growly husband and leaned in to kiss his cheek. It was rough from a few days' of travel; they'd practically come straight here. "Love you, sweetheart."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered. "Only because you always get your way."

But they both knew that wasn't true.

At least not all the time.

* * *

Castle watched his team members file into the largest lecture hall available on their floor. The Eastern European division had been split into the Pan-slavic, Baltic, and Russian states about ten years ago, and those were the main purview of his department. Germany and Austria, the 'stable' countries as they called them, that was a division Castle was no longer in control of. After his illness had taken the reins out of his hands, the EE division had been further segmented to keep all their operations going.

He hadn't actually sat down with everyone in at least two years. Part of that was simple efficiency, part of it was his time with Beckett.

When everyone was in the room who could crowd inside, Castle nodded towards Reynolds who was at the door. Ren turned and left to grab the last two people.

"Let's get started," Castle called out. He caught Beckett's eye in the crowd; she winked at him and he had to resist the urge to make a face back at her. He was doing this because of her, but the last ten thousand or so good ideas had been hers. Nothing new.

His team started to shift and settle, and Castle raised both hands to gain their attention. "You might be wondering why we've mixed clearance levels for this meeting, why I'm not talking to your division head so that he or she can turn around and give you the clean version. Well, there's a reason for that."

The door opened and Reynolds led their prisoner into the room. Every single person crowded into the lecture hall went silent.

Walker looked scared out of his mind.

Castle sighed and gestured for Reynolds; the man held open the door and Mitchell came in behind them. When Walker and Mitch had gotten to Castle front and center, a murmur started in the back of the room and washed down towards them.

"This is Agent Walker," Castle said clearly. "He was a CIA analyst, worked right alongside most of you. Walker helped us out a great deal when Agent Beckett was abducted from the street and our own Agent Malone was shot and killed. Walker rode out with me that day, and he was instrumental in our finding Agent Beckett alive."

Beckett was getting fast looks now, but Castle kept going, ignoring the way people were beginning to whisper to each other.

"Walker was given some outside help," Castle said distinctly. "He was in contact with former Agent In Charge John Black, the man most of you know is also my father."

He clapped Walker on the shoulder and the man's knees about buckled. He hadn't told Walker what was about to happen and he rather liked keeping him in the dark. Letting him sweat.

"What you might not know, what Walker here didn't understand, is that the capture/kill order out for John Black is very real. Black, while running this division, worked his own agenda to gain political power and curry favor with the Director. Most importantly, he put the lives of our agents in the field at risk to put himself in a better position. Including myself, my wife, Mitchell - and a number of you as well."

He found Beckett's eyes in the crowd and she was straight and tall and strong; it gave him strength to keep going.

"My father set up an elaborate scheme to get rid of our own US Senator William Bracken. Bracken, as you know, was a crooked politician. The two had been political enemies for years, and Agent Beckett's personal investigation as an NYPD detective happened to coincide with information Black had known for a long time."

People in the room were giving him funny looks.

"My father decided to open an investigation into Bracken's illegal activities, thinking to use Detective Beckett like a vise, squeezing on Bracken's criminal activities. He made Beckett an agent and let Bracken know she was out for him. Agent Beckett's home was bombed by Bracken during this time. But when the _legal _investigation proved fruitless, he decided instead that it was easier to play _with_ his enemy rather than against him. To win Bracken's approval for a position on a Senate committee, John Black tried to execute my wife in an alley behind the Plaza Terrace hotel."

No one breathed.

Castle pressed the button for the slide show and the projector started up in the brightly-lit room. The video was poor quality, gleaned from the security cameras outside the Plaza Terrace, but it was clear. Beckett on her knees, the gun to her head, and then the explosion of the exit door as Castle had burst onto the scene just in time.

He stopped the recording before they could see him pummel John Black. "Needless to say," Castle started dryly. "My father and I didn't see eye to eye on that decision."

The room gave over a choked laugh, someone gasped, and at the back, Castle could see Ryan loading the next clip to the slide show.

"Ever since that day, I've tried to keep it quiet, tried not to upset the delicate balance of politics and power in this division. The Director himself used my father covertly on an op to Russia, but because I had kept secrets, because Kate and I decided not tell you all this, even the Director didn't know how very bad an idea that was."

Walker was breathing hard beside him.

"This agent here - he had no idea either. When the situation in Russia got screwed, when Black led us all astray and refused to work with the Russian authorities over their own nuclear reprocessing plant - when he decided instead to simply _take_ it, this all got completely out of hand."

Walker was trembling; he jerked his head toward Castle with a pleading look to his eye. Castle gripped his shoulder to keep him from talking, ruining the moment.

"I was in a hospital, sedated, while Black left Beckett out there to die."

Kate was definitely getting looks now.

"But we don't do that here," Castle said gravely. "We don't leave men behind; we don't play politics with your lives. I was given direction over this department and Black was arrested. He has since escaped and continues to try to get back into the game - any means necessary. Walker... Walker was just trying to help."

He turned and looked Walker in the eye.

"I apologize for not giving you the truth about things," Castle said quietly, for his ears only.

Walker sucked in a breath.

"Walker leaked information to John Black. In return, Black gave him information as well. It's a zero sum game, and Beckett's life was in the balance. Because I take partial responsibility for his ignorance of the true nature of Black's standing within this organization, and because we do things differently now-"

"_He's getting off_," someone whispered.

"Yeah," Castle said with a grim smile. "He won't be tried for treason. He won't be tried at all. But he won't be a CIA analyst any longer."

The entire room let out a collective breath and Walker sank as if he might drop to his knees. Castle gripped him by the shoulders and ducked his head so that they were close, and he shook the man a little.

"I promised you - if you helped me find my wife, I'd get you a desk with a view. This is the best I can do."

"Yes, sir," Walker garbled.

Castle released the man and nodded to Mitchell. "This is former Agent Mitchell. He has a securities and consulting firm that our agency contracts work to. Mitchell is a good friend of mine, and on top of that, a man I trust. Walker will be going to work for him."

"Thank you, sir," Walker croaked. "Thank you, Agent Castle, I-"

Castle shook his head. He didn't want it; their debt was over. Mitchell was the one who uncuffed Walker's wrists and Mitchell was the one who led him back out into the hall. Mason left to escort them out and now Reynolds came down to the front of the lecture hall and stood beside Castle.

His fingers were still in splints even though the broken bones should have healed long ago. He'd undergone surgery two weeks ago to try and repair the nerve damage, and his face was still heavily shadowed, as if there were some bruises that could never fade.

"In case you think it's a fine idea to work with John Black, since I've been lenient and since I don't punish as severely as others, I want you to take a good look at this man. Michael Reynolds. Agent Reynolds's only crime was being the head jailer at a little known listening post off the coast of Tunisia. Where I sent John Black to stay for the remainder of his banishment."

Castle pressed the play button on the remote and the video started again. This time it was internal feed from the listening station's own holding cell where Black had coldly watched Maine torture Reynolds for information. It was only thirty seconds, but it was agonizing.

The room was stone silent.

"That. That is what happens when good people get tangled up in my father's schemes. I don't want it happening to you. If he's contacted you, if you've told him pieces of information thinking he was only a spy pushed out into the cold, if you've seen him and not reported it... whatever little thing you've done, this is what happens. This is what happens. And you need to tell me now."

He actually saw eyes out there shifting, looking away. Castle felt it like a fist clutching his heart. He had talked to Beckett about this, about what should be said, what things he'd explain and how to best present the truth, and he knew now she'd been right.

"Tell me now. He doesn't care about our lives. He will kill you. He's tried to kill me. His own son. He won't hesitate to sacrifice you as well."

Castle nodded to Reynolds and the man moved to stand by the door once more, his part of things over. Castle turned back to his division and took a slow and steady breath.

"I do things differently. My wife has taught me a lot about knowing what's right and what's definitely wrong. And the ways my father ran this place are not my ways. In fact, I know that's a lot of the reason why he wants us dead. Because I am unwilling to sacrifice your lives for some nebulous greater good. We _will_ work for the good of our country, we are here to provide freedom and true justice, but we will not... we will _never_... sacrifice your lives to do so."

At this, Beckett started through the room. As they'd arranged, she'd been right in the middle, standing strong, and now she came forward, brushing past coworkers and agents like some ethereal lady of the lake.

When Kate was at his side, she turned and made their final appeal.

"Each one of you is important to us. Your work is vital. What you do matters to those in the field and to the people we serve. You can tell us, you can come to us with this. We will take care of you."

Castle let out a long breath and felt his shoulders ease. Even though every eye in the room was now on his wife, no one seemed to think it strange. Not her place at his side and not her appearance before them.

The pregnancy, the regimen - those things were still secrets.

* * *

When Kate finally found him, Castle was in his office of all places.

He was never in his office. He was always out in the control room, keeping track of their missions and the analysts down in the pit, or stopping by her work station and getting the input of the team.

She paused in the doorway to assess her husband, noted the slouched line of his shoulders under the cloth of his dress shirt, the way he rubbed two fingers over his eyebrows like he was massaging a sinus headache. He was slumped over his desk but his laptop wasn't open, just files of paperwork strewn over the wood.

"Hey, sweetheart," she murmured, stepping in the office.

Castle lifted his head slowly and his eyes landed on her with something like relief. Kate came to his side at the desk and ran her fingers through his hair, tugged his head into her for an embrace. Castle sighed and buried his nose in the crook of her arm, his ear pressed to her stomach even as he sank against her.

Kate smoothed her fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. She laid her other arm over his shoulders and rubbed his back, let him take the time he needed.

She knew he'd been in here listening to confessions all morning. The entire division had talked about nothing else. People were coming out of the woodwork, though thankfully most were giving grievance to the things Black had made them do while he was still Agent In Charge.

But her husband had been forced to act the priest, hearing all the sins of his own father, and it couldn't have been good for him. She'd been against showing the video of Black pointing a gun at her in the alley simply for Castle's sake, but in the end, it was the hard evidence they'd needed to make their case.

And still Castle leaned against her. She was grateful she'd closed his door when she'd come inside, and now she trailed her fingers around his eye socket, the shape of his cheekbone, and down around his ear. He breathed out against her and she felt the heat of him strike something deep in her, call and response.

Kate wanted very badly to take him home and let him sleep, maybe have him sprawled against her like he often wound up in the middle of the night, heavy and boneless and nearly on top of her.

But in lieu of bed and hiding away from the world, she could take him to lunch. Kate rubbed her fingers along his ear and tugged softly until she knew she had his attention.

"You're taking a break. We'll get tacos from the cart and eat under the trees in the park," she said quickly. "Come on, Castle."

He didn't lift from her, but he muttered something against her shirt that she didn't catch.

"Up, baby. I'm taking you out. Little wolf is hungry."

Castle startled a laugh and tilted his head back to look at her. "Uh-huh. All right. I'm coming."

She smiled back at him and caressed his jaw, loving the rough abrasion of his five o'clock shadow against the sensitive pads of her fingers. Everything was sensitive; she responded at the slightest touch.

Forget going home to sleep and hide away, what Kate Beckett wanted were two or threes enthusiastic rounds in bed with him.

She lowered her mouth to his and kissed him ruthlessly, stroking her tongue against his and gripping him by the ears. Castle growled and surged to his feet, drawing her hard against his body, fisting his hand in her hair at her neck.

Their teeth clashed as he finally broke from her, his breathing shallow and rough as he stared into her eyes. They were nearly even when she was wearing her heels like this, and she loved feeling the power of his body coiled against hers.

"Skip the tacos," he said throatily. "I'll make you something at home. After."

"Oh, yes," she hummed. "After."


	2. Chapter 2

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

"We need to go back," she murmured against his temple.

"Mmm." He liked the way she curled her body up around his, loved the feeling of her skin flush to his. The days had turned sunny and clear but it was still cool at night and so far they hadn't needed the air conditioning. Their house was warm, and with her lying half under him, he could close his eyes and have them back in the jungle, just like this.

"Don't fall asleep," she warned him.

"Won't," he promised. "Just remembering."

"Remembering?" she chuckled. Her fingers were drawing designs on his lower back; it sent shivers through his body. "What are you remembering?"

"How we got this little guy," he smiled.

Her palmed pressed flat to his spine and he felt her suck in a breath, heard her heart pick up speed even as her body stirred under him. Huh. That fast? For that?

He really liked this pregnancy thing. Despite the constant panic attacks over her safety, of course.

"We really should go back," he reminded her.

"This first," she whispered. The desperation in her voice made it sound like a plea for mercy. He had no idea what he'd done to get her that hot this fast, but he wasn't about to tell her no.

"Let me help," he replied softly, taking the responsibility on himself and then slowly shifting down her body. Kate gasped and arched into him, and Castle inhaled sharply with his mouth against her stomach.

"Please," she cracked, her fingers gripping his arms.

"Of course, love, of course. I got you." And Castle eased his body into the cradle of hers and framed her hips with his hands to hold her down. He had a feeling this was going to get loud. And a little rough.

"Castle," she demanded, a growl in her throat.

He obeyed.

* * *

"You promised to make me something," she said, poking her husband.

"Sweetheart, you're just gonna have to take what you can get."

She glared at him but he was pushing the chicken sandwich into her hands and trying to shoo her out the door. Chicken sandwich _again_ because deli meat was out of the question now. She really craved a turkey sandwich. She wanted turkey so badly she could taste it, and when Castle had said he'd make her something, she had thought he meant he'd cook the turkey he had bought and make her a pulled turkey sandwich and she'd really had her heart set on it.

"Stop pouting. Tonight, babe." Castle was slinging the bag over his shoulder and across his body, checking his gun as he holstered it. In his suit jacket, he looked like a spy, and now that she couldn't have turkey, she could really go for another round with him.

But they had to get back.

"Tonight?" she asked, letting her voice lace it with meaning.

He shot a look at her, that predatory glare in his eyes that reminded her of the wolf. Oh yes, the wolf. He was animal like that at times, like this afternoon when he'd pressed her down.

"Shit," she muttered, stuffing the chicken sandwich into her mouth to get her mind out of the gutter. Oh, but it wanted to live there. Her body wanted to live there forever with him.

"You no good to me?" he said, taking her upper arm and nudging her towards the door. She let him do his safety check of the front walk using the security system's control app on his phone, and when he gave her the all-clear, she opened the door and stepped out into the bright daylight.

"No good to you? I'll get it together," she promised. "But you know the Office has certain... memories for me."

"Me too," he growled, kissing her roughly on the jaw as he pulled the door shut behind them. He swiped the app on his phone and she heard the locks bolting shut, the alarm system arming. "Of your delicious apology."

"Apologies," she corrected. "I believe I... begged for your forgiveness more than once."

"Oh, yes," he said darkly, eyes flashing again. "And I gave it."

Shit, she really couldn't have him teasing her like this. She was going to combust. Or, at this rate, rub herself against him on the subway platform in a really indecent manner. "This jungle parasite is driving me crazy," she hissed at him. "I feel _everything_, Castle."

"I can tell," he chuckled. He wasn't exactly tugging her down the sidewalk - it was a gentle guidance - but it was a good thing because she was slightly irritated. Distracted. Preoccupied.

"You can tell?" she murmured. "Well, I don't exactly need you to ease my-"

He growled something at her she didn't catch, but she knew the meaning. _Over my dead body._

It was funny, because if he were-

No, it wasn't funny.

That sobered her pretty quickly, and Kate slid her hand down the inside of his arm to lace their fingers together, keeping close. She knew he didn't like to have his hands tangled up when they were out on the street - he wanted to be able to draw his weapon - but she didn't hold his hand for long. Just long enough to reassure herself.

And then she let him go and stuck close to his side and let him act the paranoid freak at every major intersection.

Because she felt it too.

This was just too good to last.

* * *

It was week sixteen and three days when Kate finally gave in. They'd settled things as best as they could at the Office - it was just a damn lot of work - and he'd done everything he could to persuade her.

An amniocentesis was only the responsible thing to do. She'd been the one to set it up in the beginning, but as time had approached, as they'd been hiding out overseas, she had started to back off, saying she felt really good, the baby was good, why risk it.

The risks were small compared to the knowledge they'd gain. Once and for all, they would know if the baby had inherited Castle's genetic abnormalities.

So when Castle cleared his desk, he found Kate at her station and seduced her away from the last of her work, brought her somewhat unwillingly to her doctor's appointment.

The ultrasound was normal, and they grinned together at the view of James on the screen, his heart beating and his legs kicking a little, the jungle parasite. Castle leaned in and kissed her cheek and she couldn't even turn her head to return it, both of them watching the ultrasound.

"All right, I'm going to give you a local, Kate." Castle watched in concentration as Dr Dennison inserted the small needle into her abdomen, but of course that was nothing.

It was when the big needle came out that Castle's heart stopped.

They were going to _stick that_ into his wife.

Holy-

"Hold my hand," she rasped.

Castle grabbed her hand and looked at her face to keep from being a wuss and closing his eyes. She was watching the needle resolutely. Dr Dennison was calm and talking quietly, giving them the play-by-play as she used the ultrasound to guide the needle, and Kate's fingers curled around his so tightly.

"You're doing so good," he murmured to her.

"I'm not doing anything," she growled back at him.

"I don't think you should talk. Hold very still," he whispered.

She cut her eyes to him. "Shut up. This is your fault."

"You know we have to."

"There we go," Dr Dennison said smoothly. "All done."

Dr Boyd came into the room; he would take a sample back to Stone Farm where their team would go over it. Threkeld apparently had come up with an idea about the antibodies in his blood versus his wife's, and he wanted in on the testing as well, wanted to see how James's blood was 'turning out' he said.

Fuck, it was like a damn science experiment and he really hated it.

"When do we find out the results?" Kate asked.

Boyd patted her ankle. "Next weekend. We want to go slowly with this, make sure we get it right."

Castle sat up straight. "And if James hasn't inherited-"

"Then we'll stop the pills," Boyd said with a nod.

Kate grimaced.

"The puncture will heal in the next two days," Dennison told them. "The amniotic fluid will replenish as well. Just take it easy, get some sleep when you're tired."

"I can still work?" Kate asked urgently.

"Of course."

On the ultrasound, James seemed to be sucking his thumb, his knees drawn up close to his head, curling in to protect himself.

* * *

"I think it's time to knock off," she said when she found him.

Castle glanced up from a stack of paperwork. He loathed paperwork, but it had been piling up for... years, probably. That lunch when they had played hooky for a couple hours had been entirely too long ago; he felt like he'd been at the Office for ages.

"Knock off?" he asked, heard the gravel in his voice from overuse. Since their intervention with Walker last week, seventeen people had filed through his office seeking to unburden their souls. Only one had been what he might term an active mole. They'd taken care of it. The woman was being interviewed by Esposito and Ryan in the conference room down the hall-

"Rick."

He glanced up, aware suddenly of the quality of her voice now as well. Tired, weary. What time-?

"It's eight o'clock," he choked out, startling to his feet. Kate was hanging out by the door, her foot keeping it propped open and she gestured for him. "Yeah, okay, I'm coming."

He logged off his laptop and closed it, locked his files into the vault behind him, made sure nothing was out on his desktop - just like security protocols dictated. The laptop went into the vault as well, and then he was ready to go with nothing more than his phone and sidearm on him.

She was similarly unencumbered. She didn't even bring a bag to the Office, because what would be the point? Security would confiscate it at the checkpoint five floors up and she wouldn't get it back until they left. They did everything on their phones anyway, even their IDs were on the phone.

God help them if their phones were stolen by someone who knew what they were doing.

Kate was holding out her hand to him now, silently urging him to hurry, and he wished he'd been paying attention to the time. He had meant to get them out of here long ago. "Did you see Espo or Ryan recently?"

"Ryan went home to his wife and baby girl," she said softly. "But Esposito is still here, finishing up his debrief report. Agent Usmani-"

"How is she?" he sighed.

"She's shaken up, of course. She offered to stay in holding overnight - can you believe it? But Espo sent her home with an agent - I guess it's a combination of suicide watch and protection for us."

"I told Espo to use Reynolds. Did he?"

"Oh? No, I don't know," she murmured. He found himself shuffling down the hall and tried to pick up his feet. He wasn't tired, he was just delaying the inevitable. It felt like he had a mountain of work to get through, reorganizing the structure of his division, hand holding his people to get them through this, and also maintaining active operations.

"You work on Crimea this afternoon?" he asked.

"I've got it covered. I read-in Mason, my own call. I should have asked, I know, but you've been snowed."

"No, it's a good move. That place is blowing up in our faces and we can't lose our assets."

She nodded and reached out for his arm; he realized he was still putting it off, unable to cut the cord. He usually only needed about four hours of sleep any given night, but lately he'd had more than that, able to finally rest, not on high alert. But that meant he was a little keyed up, that he could go all night if he didn't have her to think about, and she needed her sleep. Well-

"We could stay," she murmured. "It's a secure location - the most secure location on the eastern seaboard. Better than our panic room. And we could get some stuff done, nap on one of the cots for a few hours."

It was true; the supplements Boyd had concocted for her had given her something of the same functioning skills - less sleep needed, sharper reflexes, endurance.

But in the long run, it couldn't be good for her. Just because she could do it, didn't mean she should.

"No. We need a break. I need a break. I need to shut down my brain."

"You'll be up all night anyway," she told him, hesitating at the elevators. The halls were deserted and it reminded him of the night she'd blindfolded him and taken him down here to apologize. Good memories, and funny to think that she'd already been pregnant then. A few days at that point, but still.

"If I do stay up all night," he conceded, "I'll finish the wolf's panic room."

Kate actually laughed, but she pressed the call button and leaned a shoulder against the wall. "Fine. But don't get upset with me if I help."

"You suck at construction, Beckett," he whined immediately.

"Then hold my attention some other way," she drawled, grinning at him as she stepped onto the elevator.

He followed, pushing her back against the wall as the doors closed. She arched and pressed the button for the lobby five floors above them, and even though they were giving the security people a little show, she leaned in and sucked on his earlobe, made him moan.

"Or maybe you just need to hold _my_ attention," he growled into her neck.

"Don't I always?" she hummed. Already her fingers were homing in on him, wicked and strong and ruthless.

* * *

The guards on the ground floor gave him looks, but they gave Beckett only respect. She smirked behind their backs at her husband, whose distress wasn't completely noticeable, but the guards decided not to frisk him. Probably the least embarrassing route.

Castle shot her dirty looks and they took the main elevator to the parking garage so he could drive them home. She wouldn't make him suffer on the subway, though she had plans for the darkened interior of their car and the easy access to his lap.

She kept it to herself until he had pulled out of the garage and they had cleared the zone of the CIA's cameras.

Then she slid her arm casually over the console and scratched her nails over his thigh. "You had a long day, baby."

"Yeah, long week," he agreed. He was paying attention to traffic, his brows furrowed. "I hope Usmani does okay. I told Reynolds to look out for her."

"They're about the same age. Both unmarried," she noted.

"Ah."

That noncommittal noise of his that she hated. Kate said nothing about it, merely ran the backs of her fingers along his thigh. Castle let out a breath and eased back into the seat as they pulled up to a traffic light.

"You're pretty sexy, you know?" she murmured.

"Huh?" He shot her a blank look; his mind was still on work, no doubt.

"Creases in your shirt, sleeves rolled up, that purple tie I love, smelling like the deodorant has worn off a little."

"Oh, sorry. I'll change when I-"

She caressed his thigh and Castle strangled on the last of his words, his eyes dilating to wide open night skies.

"You don't change, love," she whispered softly. "But the light has."

Castle let out a noise and jerked his head back to the traffic; the car surged forward and Kate smiled to herself, knowing exactly what they'd be doing when they got home.

* * *

When Kate had fallen asleep curled up in the harbor of his body, Castle still found himself awake.

Alert. He was riddled with tension and had been since encountering his father in Rome in their own home. Or well, the CIA safe house they'd used since they'd been married in Italy. No longer. It had felt like a violation, but worse, it had felt like nothing was sacred, no place secret enough where he could hide his family.

His family. It wasn't just Kate he was protecting.

She had stopped putting up with his need for the panic room, pushed him back into therapy with Dr King, and it helped, of course. But he wasn't paranoid irrationally - that was the problem. He had actual and practical fears regarding what Black might do to his wife, and those couldn't be talked away with one of King's intensive sessions.

But he had allies. They had allies, friends, family they'd built around themselves. And that shored him up.

While she was still sleeping (which might be for only a few more hours), Castle carefully untangled himself from her body, brushed a kiss along her bare shoulder, and got out of bed. He scooped up his phone and shut the bedroom door, headed quietly for the office.

But his steps were arrested in the hallway. Instead of stopping at the first door on his left, he continued on, drawn like a moth to the flame of the empty bedroom at the top of the stairs.

Sasha was asleep on the floor before the windows, but the dog woke instantly at his approach, gave a lurch of her body to shake off sleep and come to his side. He sank to his knees and petted her fur, silver in the moonlight, and Sasha wriggled like a puppy to get closer to him.

"Shh," he murmured. "Don't wake her."

Sasha settled in his lap like she could, at all, still fit. She was no longer a puppy, and she had the long, rangy body of the wolf, but still she must have remembered days spent curled so small in the bowl made of his crossed legs, because she did it now, trying to settle in. Castle let her, unable to say no to the eager lick of her tongue across his fingers or the whine in her throat that somehow reminded him of Kate.

He leaned back until his spine hit the wall in the very spot Kate had mentioned putting a crib, just under the windows, and he surveyed the room with a choked up feeling in his throat.

It would be changed soon. The room transfigured. Kate had said something to him about wanting Sasha to feel at home still, even after their son was born, and he'd made a joke about filling the room with the woods. But he thought Kate had taken him seriously. He'd seen her stop at the top of the stairs and peer into the empty room, the baby's room, thoughts in her head.

"Trees?" he murmured to Sasha. "We could put their silhouettes across the walls, make it look like the middle of a dark forest."

Still attempting to curl in his lap, Sasha shivered like a chill had gone through her and she whined again, her eyes on him as he spoke.

"You'd like that," he said. "She'd like it too. Remind her of home."

He wasn't sure when that cabin had become a second home to them, but it'd been the sight of so much of their history - disastrous or renewed. She'd taken him to Jim's place in the woods to heal from a knife wound, back before she'd been willing to admit they were anything serious, and he'd asked her to marry him there first. In a roundabout way. They'd had their wedding reception at the cabin, and a kind of honeymoon as well, and he'd fallen through the ice there too.

The woods haunted them, ran with them, crowded them. It seemed only appropriate to let the trees stand sentinel over their son in this room.

Speaking of sentinels. His phone was ringing.

He answered quickly, hoping for good news. "Logan?"

"Yeah," the man answered. He'd been the physician's assistant at Stone Farm, had ridden in the ambulance with him and Kate when they'd been at their worst. He wondered where Logan's wife was; he should have asked.

But he didn't. "Do we have results on the amnio?"

"Not yet. Probably by Sunday. Boyd's working on it, growing the cultures. Threkeld's coming this weekend too."

"You'll let us know if-"

"I will, but I'm sure Boyd will be eager to share as soon as he knows. I do have a few things I'm sending to your email, but the latest rounds with the mice look good."

"What about the sleep stuff?" he asked quickly. "She's getting less and less sleep every week."

"The mice are doing fine," Logan offered. "They're sleeping maybe thirty minutes at the most, but they don't seem to be suffering for it. I've shared my findings with Boyd and he's been trying to isolate which part of the regimen causes the sleep deprivation-"

"You just said it wasn't sleep deprivation," Castle growled out.

"No, no, I meant - just what part of the program allows someone like yourself to go without sleep for as long as you do but without the consequences we normally see."

"And what about Kate?" Castle rubbed a hand down his face. "Because if she's getting the part that buzzes her system so that she can't sleep, but not the part that keeps her systems going despite that-"

"Whatever that element is, Castle, she's getting both. They must be hand-in-hand, bonded pairs, something. Because I am telling you, those rats are fine. They're getting fifty times the dosage Kate's getting, and they're fine."

"For now," Castle croaked.

"Man, you gotta trust the scientific method," Logan answered him. It sounded like a line, like an inside joke, like maybe Boyd and Threkeld had been saying it to Logan for a while now.

"Scientific method," Castle echoed.

"Yeah, sorry. Kind of a joke around here."

"Keep going with the rats," Castle told him. "I can't have..."

"And you keep monitoring her sleep patterns. If she falls under four hours, you let me know. You hear me?"

"Of course."

"And I'd keep her eating as much protein as you can. Just in case. I haven't seen any correlations so far - let alone direct causal relationships - but I still can't figure out why that one's heart stopped."

Castle scrubbed his hand down his face and let out a slow breath. "Thanks, Logan."

"You know you should tell her we're doing this."

"She'd..."

"She wouldn't. She is about you the way you are about her. She'd get it. She might even be willing to let me test a few things-"

"She won't do it," Castle choked out. He closed his eyes and buried his hand in the dog's fur, gripping Sasha's collar. "I don't blame her, really. It already feels so fragile as it is. Just doing the amnio felt like a bitch."

"I keep telling you - a super spy's kid ain't going to be fragile. You should see these pregnant rats, man. There is no way that kid is fragile if they're at all the same."

Castle growled and it made Sasha growl with him. He was startled out of his funk by the dog's sympathy and he scratched her between the ears in appreciation.

"I'll think about it," he said finally.

"Let me know her vital stats for this week and I'll plug them into the computer," Logan said. "In the meantime, expect a call from Threkeld and Boyd."

"Oh, yeah?" Threkeld was their infectious disease guy and it always made Castle slightly sick to his stomach when they coordinated with him. But he had something about antibodies, he'd said. "The amnio?"

"No. Nothing bad, man. Promise you. If we thought there was a mutation in the blood - in anything - I would be on this phone to you first. You know that."

"Thanks, Logan."

"You got it. Give Kate a kiss from me."

"Not on your life," Castle laughed.

"Bet she's hot pregnant."

"You're lucky you're nowhere near me right now. Or your wife."

"Right. My wife knows nothing about you guys; she'd be confused."

And then Logan had hung up. Castle leaned his head back against the wall of the empty room and closed his eyes.

But what sprang up behind his eyelids weren't pregnant rats and Stone Farm and eggs, but the lovely and cool and dark forest behind her father's cabin.

Yeah, they were going to have to get those decals that went floor to ceiling, paper the wall in tree trunks and bare limbs and winter woods.

* * *

She woke Friday morning to find that Castle had already gotten out of bed, turned off her alarm entirely, and the heavy odor of coffee had permeated the whole room. She'd fallen asleep sometime after one, both of them working until late at the Office, and then late here at home as well - private stuff, cover IDs and new passports and the money - and now it was five in the morning and she thought she could actually use another hour.

But she had to take that pill first. She never felt quite right until she'd had it.

In these morning moments, the hour when her body woke her before her mind was ready, when things stirred in her blood and cried out, she was afraid.

She was afraid of what it was doing, what it had done, why the baby needed so much and what they'd passed on to him. She was afraid of the long-term effects, but she was afraid of how much she liked it. It was seductive and alluring to have so much nonstop energy and power and belief in one's self.

Belief. No wonder Castle made her untenable promises, no wonder he'd always known he could keep them together and safe and unbroken.

And then Kate reached for the bottle of water on her bedside table, the packet of pills in their white paper envelope, and she shook one out onto her hand and swallowed it down. She finished off the water bottle and already she could feel it working to soothe all those jagged edges, repairing whatever was torn asunder inside herself that made the need so strong and the fear so dominant.

It had to be partially psychosomatic. Boyd and Threkeld and Logan would never have given her pills which contained the serum behind Castle's full program. Never. She knew that it was in her head, that the pills were like highly-specific, tailored prenatal vitamins and not much more.

But something in them made her...

"Kate?"

She shifted in bed to see him in the doorway, already showered and dressed in his grey slacks and an undershirt, bare feet. He didn't need much sleep either; he possessed that inherent belief in himself that everything would turn out exactly like he needed it to. It couldn't hurt her to be more like him, right?

"We have a late meeting," he told her, lifting both eyebrows as he came into the room. "That's all."

"Late meeting is how late?"

"Nine."

They could...

"You could sleep if you wanted," he said softly.

Sleep? No, she did not want sleep. She wanted to taste the residue of his soap on his skin and have his body over hers. She wanted to give in whole-heartedly to this feeling that nothing bad could ever pull them apart, that they could survive anything.

"I took my prenatal vitamins already. I should eat," she told him.

His shoulders slumped - not far, nearly imperceptible - but she saw it. He was still wary of it all, and she didn't blame him. At the first of the morning when the dawn hadn't even broken through the grey sky, she was wary too.

"Crawl in with me," she said instead. He hesitated and she drew back the covers, fixed him with a look that let out some of her desperation, even a little of that fear. "Please."

Castle was sliding into bed and over her in moments, his weight bearing her back down, his fingers brushing little kisses across her cheeks and jaw. "Don't beg me, Kate. I can't bear it."

She bit her bottom lip and snaked an arm around his neck, pulled her down against him. "I'll save it for when it matters," she promised.

"Play hooky with me," he asked.

"Okay," she gave in, closing her eyes and kissing the side of his jaw. He'd already shaved as well, smooth and silky under her lips. "Okay. I know you want me to sleep in but you're gonna have to work for it. You'll have to wear me out."

He pulled his head back to look at her, a grave countenance. "I will endeavor with everything in me to wear you out."

She cracked up first, laughing even as his grin split his face, and all of the early morning hesitance was entirely wiped out. Gone just like that. They were fine; she was fine. It was a few extra nutrients that the baby needed to grow his strong blood cells, his super bones.

She'd give their son whatever he needed, and if it had some pretty great side effects, she could deal.

"Kiss me," he murmured.

She grinned wider and lifted her head to meet his mouth.


	3. Chapter 3

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

"What are we doing for the weekend?" she said, bouncing on her toes as they took the elevator up. They'd closed down the Office on a Friday earlier than usual, and she was edgy and aware and ready to go.

"For the whole weekend?" he said, smirking over at her. He reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder, bringing her back down on her heels. "Settle down, Beckett."

She tilted her head at him and he chuckled, the narrow light of the efficiency bulbs making her skin glow. Well, her skin was glowing a lot lately. Damn pills.

Gorgeous though.

"We'll think of something," he promised, dragging his hand down her arm to wrap his fingers around her elbow. "Want to go out? We haven't been out together in... ages."

"Since potato cakes and our pretend first date."

He grinned wider and dragged her into him just as the elevator door opened. He didn't care; he took his time with her, leaned in to press his lips to her mouth and take her slowly. She hummed and lifted into him, an arm winding around his neck and her other hand combing through the hair at his temple. Her little moan made him growl and then she was laughing and dragging him off of the elevator.

"Yeah let's go out."

He snaked his hand around her waist and brushed her stomach, reminder and reassurance, and she nodded. She could still hide it with careful clothing.

But not for much longer.

* * *

"You're such a buzzkill," he muttered into her hair. "No alcohol? How are we supposed to enjoy ourselves at all?"

"Don't be a bastard," she laughed, knocking her shoulder into his as they stood close. The subway swayed as it went around a corner and the lights flickered. She felt him tense, rippling with alert defensive posture and putting his hand to his holstered weapon. She hadn't even tried to argue against bringing a loaded weapon to a public park, but while the lights were off, she skimmed her fingers under his shirt, above his hip where the gun was, and she teased to distract him.

He let out a shaky breath just as the lights came on.

"Stand down, soldier," she murmured, kissing him softly at the corner of his eye. His face twitched but he knocked his head into hers in appreciation, and she knew he was okay again. "You don't have to take me. We don't have to go."

"I want to," he said immediately. "I do."

"It will be crowded. People stand in line all day."

"Mother got me tickets last minute and I don't want to..."

"Okay," she said gently. She felt like she needed to baby him, like she ought to be tender with him until it passed. She just wasn't sure it ever would pass. He took the danger seriously because he always had, because his awareness and battle-ready chemical make-up had saved his life.

And because he was back on the regimen - limited though it was - she was beginning to see elements of the old Richard Castle, the one who had been the CIA's machine. His awareness, his lack of sleep, his instant alertness, the reflexes and the energy and the laser-like focus. She was trying to pay attention to him; she had set up a system with Boyd to keep her husband closely monitored. She emailed Boyd once a week with a kind of log of observable behaviors. The paranoia was top on their list of things to investigate - maybe there was a way to dial it down, maybe there was part of the supplementals that created this...

She wanted him to benefit from the regimen if he was going to be stuck with it; she wanted it to be good for him, for them both.

Kate lifted her hand and framed the side of his face. Castle's eyes closed, like he was absorbing the warmth of her hand, and he bowed his head towards her. She was tall in these shoes and she liked being able to be right here, able to get to him.

The lights flickered again and this time Castle stayed perfectly still, both of his hands at her hips to keep her steady as the subway car swayed through the tunnel. She touched her mouth to his to steal a kiss in the darkness, and he melted at her touch.

She could still get to him. Even if the shots and the pills were amping his system and wiring his brain for spy work, he was still hers.

"Rick," she murmured at his lips, the name she'd given him.

"Hey, sweetheart," he sighed. "I'm okay. This will be fun. And my mother will be thrilled."

She snaked her arm around his neck and the lights popped back on; he had his eyes open again. But he was only looking at her.

* * *

Castle was stunned when his mother met them at the entrance to the Garden theatre. She was in one of the most brazen outfits he'd ever seen - oranges and reds and fuchsias - and she was gesturing wildly towards them, hurrying them along.

Kate held his hand loosely, just fingers, but she pulled him towards his mother with a smile that rivaled the brightest colors on his mother's blouse. "Martha. Thank you so much for the tickets."

"I thought you were going to leave them at willcall," Castle said, allowing the hug that Martha turned to him after she'd embraced Kate. But his wife elbowed him hard and he winced over his mother's shoulder, shot Kate a look.

She was mouthing, _be nice._ He had been nice. He was being nice!

"You didn't have to come out and personally meet us," he went on, trying to make up for the negative tone he'd accidentally set. "Don't you have to do - I don't know - play things?"

"Play things," his mother laughed. "Oh, darling, that's cute." She patted his hand and seemed to glow, taking Kate's hand in her other one so that she brought both of their clasps up against her chest. "Look at you both. Soon to be-"

"Mother," he warned. She couldn't do that, talk about it so casually, so freely.

"Rick," Kate said softly. She gave him a look that he couldn't interpret. "Sweetheart, who are we hiding it from?"

He stood as if struck, his limbs unresponsive, as Kate gave him this tender, shaking-head smile.

"Martha, it's fine. Don't let him bully you. We had to tell his father about the baby; he knows. Your connection to the intelligence world is pretty much nonexistent, so it won't hurt us to talk about it, to plan. Did we tell you what we're doing in the baby's room?"

Martha gave a little noise of joy, threw her arms around Kate, squeezing and rocking her back and forth. Castle let out a breath that felt like barbed wire, but she was right. Black knew. The outside world knew Beckett and her husband, Richard Rodgers, as a normal (if infamous) couple with a place in the city; Beckett was an NYPD detective who had retired after the shooting. Not even The Collective his father had been afraid of knew that John Black and Richard Rodgers were at all related, and while Castle didn't like having a high profile cover in the city, it wasn't going to relate back to his spy work.

If they continued to be careful, which for fucking sure they were. Every day, every moment. If they were careful, then being the Rodgers wouldn't mean much.

"Richard," his mother said. She was still linked arm in arm with Kate, but her eyes had dimmed to those beaten down blues that he'd seen when he had first met her.

She'd been changed since then; their tentative relationship had changed her.

For the better, he thought. Hoped. "Mother," he said. Kate was right and it was time he allowed himself the chance to treasure this. He was ruining some of the best moments with his paranoia. "Mother, it's a boy. We're having a boy."

* * *

His mother's performance was enchanting and terrifying, all at the same time. As Hamlet's Gertrude, Queen of Denmark, she held every bit of regal bearing and portrayed a vein of weakness and willful ignorance so adroitly that he was astonished.

Kate sat with him on a concrete bench in the outdoor rotunda, people on all sides, the open sky above them. Belvedere Castle was in the distance and the stage was nothing more than a vast circle, the amphitheater perfectly situated so that every last person could hear the softest, heart-rending cry from Ophelia's lips.

When the woman drowned herself offstage, the way the performance was staged created the certainty that she'd been pregnant and abandoned by her lover, Hamlet, that the man hadn't come through for her as she had hoped.

The entire play was disconcerting.

Kate's words circled in his head all afternoon, the logic of the whole thing, how he'd been sheltering the knowledge between them like a seedling that he refused to allow to grow. He wanted control; he needed control of things to feel secure. But that control was an illusion - his father already knew and they had this tenuous, terrible deal in place that ensured as much safety as could possibly be had.

During the intermission, Castle turned to Kate and took her head in his hands, framed her face with his fingers. She gave him a startled look, eyes catching, and he leaned in and kissed her so very softly, apologizing.

Someone behind them whistled and there was laughter, and while it went against everything in his nature, while it seemed ridiculously short-sighted and incredibly irresponsible to all he'd ever known in his life, Castle broke from her lips and turned to the random people sitting behind them and he said it out loud, broke the silence.

"We're having a baby," he announced with a grin.

There was a scattering of applause and indulgent smiles, a few congratulations, and not a single face was untrustworthy, not a man or woman out there who looked more interested than they should or studiously avoiding his eyes.

Kate was laughing when he turned back around, and the relief and wonder on her face told him he'd done exactly the right thing. He took her hand and kissed her fingers. "I'm happy," he promised her. "And yes, we should let our family be happy too. Thank you, Kate."

She pulled his hand to her stomach and leaned in to impress a hard-edged kiss to his mouth, her tongue sharp and swift before she backed away. Beneath the soft flow of her silky shirt, Castle could feel the rounded beginnings of their son already pushing out into existence.

There was no way to hide him anyway. Not any longer.

* * *

They took Martha out for a nightcap and Kate didn't even feel conspicuous without a drink. Castle had a scotch to keep his mother company, and Martha seemed to be limiting herself. She had another performance tomorrow, so maybe that was the reason. It was the first time Kate had seen the woman perfectly sober, and it was heartening.

"How's Chip?" Kate asked at a break in conversation.

"Oh, he's a doll," Martha gushed. "Did you see the beautiful thing he gave me for my birthday?" She flashed her hand and the sapphire sparkled in the dim lights. Castle whistled softly and Kate reached out to grasp the older woman's fingers, tilting the ring towards her.

"Oh, that's gorgeous. Wow."

"You hear that?" Martha said, looking at Castle but nodding to Kate. "You need to ply her with jewels, darling. After all, she is having your son."

Kate laughed at the shock that crawled across his face. "Oh, no. Your son does very well in the gift-giving department. He knows just what I like." She sent him a knowing glance across the table and he actually flushed.

"Well, doesn't that sound perfectly naughty," Martha chimed in. Her eyes were on her son as if arrested by the sight. Kate couldn't imagine - didn't want to imagine what that had been like. Giving birth and raising a boy until he was five years old but never feeling enough for him, never able to give him what he needed to thrive. And then giving him away, over to his father, on the chance and prayer that the man's resources could make up for a missing mother.

"It is perfectly naughty," Castle replied with a little glare. "She likes to torment me. But I've given her jewelry. Haven't I, Kate?"

She smiled at him, her heart hurting for them both, mother and son. "He has. He's very good. My engagement ring." She drew her left hand from under the table where she'd had it laying on Castle's knee and she offered his mother a look.

The dark stone held a smoky fire in its navy depths, even in the poor lighting of the wine bar. Martha gave an appreciative noise and touched the inlaid stone in its silver band. "This is striking. A good reflection of you."

Kate bit her lip and glanced to Castle. "He did good. He also gave me a pendant." Kate pulled her hands from Martha's and reached down her shirt to draw the chain out. "This is - special to me - I love it."

Martha flipped the Roman coin over and saw the thumbprint on the back; her eyes shifted to Castle. "This seems alluring and dangerous. Having your prints out there with you doing... what you do."

"It is," he said assuredly. "It's quite dangerous. If Kate weren't Kate, it would be a death warrant."

Kate closed her hand around the pendant and tucked it back under her shirt. "Which is why he gave it to me. And I treasure it."

"And now you need something for the baby. To celebrate," Martha insisted. "Obviously, Richard, you have your own taste, and Kate enjoys the peculiar things. But jewelry can never be wrong."

"I don't know," Kate mused. "I think maybe I should be getting him something."

Castle actually perked up at that, twin spots of color flaming up his cheeks and creeping into the few-days' worth of scruff. "Like what?" he said suspiciously.

"Like a thanks for knocking me up gift," Kate said, pressing her lips together to keep from smiling and ruining it.

Across the table, Martha chuckled, but she evidently could see the fun in teasing him. "What a brilliant idea, Katherine, dear. Even as crass as all that."

"You are _not-_"

"Oh, I am," Kate said, smirking at him. "I totally am. I'll find the perfect thing."

"There's nothing to _celebrate_ about knocking you up," he growled.

Martha let out a noise even as Kate went still. His mother reached across the table and clutched Kate's hand, squeezing so hard that the band cut into Kate's fingers. "Ignore him, darling. He's male and he has no idea."

Castle gave a startled look to his mother and then back to Kate, but he finally got it, finally must have heard himself, and he immediately reached for her, his fingers tucking into her waistband and pulling her - chair and all - up against his side.

"That's not what I meant. Not at all. I mean you're doing all the work here, baby, and it doesn't seem fair that _I _get rewarded for it."

She palmed the side of his face and gently kissed the corner of his mouth, toning it down in front of his mother. "I know what you meant. But what I meant was that it's not easy for you, and I know that, and maybe we should find a way to make this-"

"Special," Martha jumped in. "You have to. You absolutely must treasure every single day, kiddo. If you can't do that then..."

Kate cut her eyes to the woman, realization swamping through her. How much Martha must have lived in dread and anxiety all that time, how much motherhood had overwhelmed her. "Martha," she sighed, squeezing the hand still around hers. "It must have been so hard. I don't think either of us have really said thank you - for those first few years of his life, for not giving up on him and-"

"_Giving_-"

Kate elbowed him hard, caught his hand and viciously pinched the webbing between his thumb and finger. He shut up, thank goodness, and Martha cast a soulful look between them.

"At least you have each other," his mother said, a choking noise in her throat. "That makes all the difference. Even if it's difficult, anything can be overcome if you have someone to lean on."

Kate did just that, gave Castle a kiss for her brutal treatment of his limbs, and he gave her a measuring look in return. But he seemed to understand.

And it was Castle who went ahead and told his mother the rest of it. "What Kate means, I think, by wanting to give me jewelry-" here he snorted, narrowing his eyes over at her, "-is that the conditions aren't exactly... ideal."

"When are they ever," his mother said with a sweep of her hand. "And with your jobs, darlings, I don't see how that will change any time soon."

"Ah, well, that's not it," Castle said, shaking his head. "Because of the program Black has had me on since I was five, parts of my DNA have been altered. My red blood cells most profoundly, but mitochondria and some cell uptake issues. Suffice it to say, our son might have inherited these... leanings."

Martha looked like she had been punched in the stomach. All the air seemed to leave her, and her face grew deadly pale, blanching her skin even under the make-up.

Castle rubbed a hand over his eyes. "But we're finding out soon. We did an amnio and we'll know for sure."

Kate squeezed the woman's hand and tried to bring her back to them. "Martha. Hey, we're on top of things. We're taking care of him. He's-"

"What does it mean?" Martha got out, sounding like she had too much air in her words, like she was leaking. "What does that mean for you? Because it's not the baby, it's you, Kate. It's you. I can see it on Richard's face."

Kate sat back in surprise, but Castle was nodding and leaning forward. "I've had to take these pills and some injections my whole life to keep things stable - things working how they should be. When I got sick over Christmas, I hadn't been taking the regimen as I should have, and so that illness was able to mutate within my immune system's heightened cell structure. Mother, this isn't anything you can repeat to anyone - do you understand me? But it's important to know that James requires some of those same supplements. Just in case. In case he needs those for his development, his... altered development."

"James," she said faintly. And then she seemed to rally, an actress putting on her showman's face. "And that means, by proxy, Kate. Kate is taking these... pills and injections."

"No injections," Kate said quickly. "It's not the serum, which seems to be the catalyst for changing cell structures and altering DNA itself. But the pills - think of them like extra-special prenatal vitamins."

Martha brought a hand to her hair as if she thought it had fallen in disarray. "Well. I... so now you, dear Katherine, are taking parts of a regimen intended for... whatever program John enrolled Richard in, for whatever government-backed human experimentation that man did on my son."

"Yes," she said softly. After a heartbeat of silence, Kate got up the courage to ask the question she'd always wanted to ask of this woman. "How much did you know? When you gave him to his father?"

* * *

Castle went silent when his mother froze. Not because it mattered what her answer might be but because it had just occurred to him.

Martha had been in the same position as Kate when she'd been pregnant with him. Martha might know what it was like to have a super child.

"Was - was it different?" Castle got out, rushing into the silence. "With me. Did it - I know it's not like you had anything to compare it to, but maybe you had girlfriends who told you stories about it but..."

Kate sucked in a breath and he felt her staring at him, but this was - he hadn't ever considered how his mother might have gone through some of these same things. His father had insinuated that he himself had been the first test subject, Patient Zero he'd said, and if that was true, then Castle's DNA had been already been different in utero.

"What do you mean... different?" Martha said. Her fingers were tight around her wine glass; it was only her second and they had already polished off the tapas. She'd been sober and forthcoming all night. He hoped it wouldn't stop now.

"Was the pregnancy different in any way? Because Kate-" His throat closed up and his mother leaned in, grasping both their hands.

"Was it different? Darling, oh - it was different. For me, of course. But I didn't know I was pregnant until I began showing, and then I was counting back the days and realizing that a few missed cycles were more than just the exhausting and demanding life of an actress."

Until she was _showing_?

"No morning sickness, no mood swings, no strange taste in your mouth?" Kate said quickly.

"None of that. It does happen," Martha defended. "But all my girlfriends were in awe. I was stunned, yes, and couldn't imagine... well, it was a very easy pregnancy. You were early, darling, and the doctor thought I was kidding when the nurse called him into the hospital. April Fool's."

Castle sank back in his seat, staring at his mother. He hadn't known - hadn't cared to know - any of this, any of her struggles as a single mother, pregnant actress, any of it. "Early," he echoed.

"The doctor says James is growing a little faster than average," Kate added. "The due date has been revised twice."

"And now?" Martha asked, sitting forward eagerly.

"November 15th," Kate smiled. Her hand was against her stomach and Castle reached for it, tangling their fingers on top of the rise.

"Oh, so close to your own," Martha gushed. He was shocked that his mother had remembered Kate's birthday, that she even knew it at all.

"Yeah, well. I don't care _when_ he gets here, so long as he's healthy," Kate murmured.

"Well, Richard was early, and fully formed. But they were expecting his lungs to be unfinished and they'd wanted to give me two doses of steroids over the course of 24 hours, but Richard wouldn't wait 24 hours. He came within minutes of the doctor arriving."

Castle couldn't believe how much information this was, how much his mother might know about what Kate would be going through. "And did you notice anything during the pregnancy? Cravings, maybe?"

His mother looked startled. "Oh, well, actually. I'd completely forgotten until you said it, but I ate bananas all the time. Constantly. So much so that the doctor was always checking some level of something or other-"

"Potassium," Kate murmured.

"Yes, that. And eggs," Martha chuckled. "Bananas and eggs. Eggs for every meal."

Kate shot Castle a look, but oh _hell_ he understood, fuck. Fuck, this was...

"When Rick got... when he was sick all the time and his father convinced you to send him to boarding school," Kate prompted. "What happened? How was he sick?"

"You think it's the altered cells, that kind of thing?" Martha looked inquisitive but more resilient and intelligent than Castle had ever given her credit for. What would Kate have done if Castle couldn't be with her, if she were alone and pregnant and with a child that had such _needs_?

"Mother, we don't know when it started, but we do know that Black injected himself first. So his DNA could have already been... changed by that time."

Kate glanced at him and filled his mother in on the rest. "Which made it easier for Castle to take to the program without the consequences that befell the other soldiers."

Martha blinked. "What happened to the others?"

"They went insane," Castle said baldly. "The serum twists blood cells into malformed shapes and eventually binds to the brain cells, malforms them. Creates this swiss cheese effect. The other patients' rational thinking was shot to hell and they usually wound up sociopaths."

"Oh, God." Martha shot a look to Kate and Castle nodded grimly.

"That's what we're fighting against here. That's why Kate's not taking the serum, and why I would really rather she didn't take a single damn thing at all."

"Oh God, Kate," Martha whispered.

"I'm fine," Kate insisted. "It's fine. It's supplements - extra vitamins to give James what he needs. My brain is _not_ turning into Swiss cheese. Castle is-"

"Don't even say I'm exaggerating," Castle growled.

She turned to him with a huff but he shook his head at her.

"Fine," she muttered. "But those soldiers were on concentrated doses of serum to rush them through the process and elevate their levels to match yours, Castle. We read that in those files we stole from the Congo. And Martha, we're nowhere near those levels. I haven't had a single-"

"You said it's elements of the serum," Castle pointed out. "That's what Logan told me as well. That they're taking some of those injections and breaking it up into parts and _that's_ what is in those pills you take every damn day."

She closed her mouth and her cheeks flushed. Had she thought he'd _forget_ that?

"Is this... a conversation I should be hearing?" Martha murmured. "I would never repeat a word, of course not, never, but I wonder if I'm supposed to know this information."

"It's fine," Castle muttered, dragging a hand down his face.

"And what about you, Richard?"

He lifted his eyes to his mother's. "What about me?"

"You were sick over Christmas and now-?"

"And now I'm not."

"He's taking the regimen again," Kate answered.

Martha looked sick.

"Believe me, I don't want to be on it either," Castle grumbled. "But Kate flips out if she thinks I'm getting so much as a sneeze."

"Don't you dare," Kate hissed at him.

He shot her a chagrinned look and apologized with his eyes, but she was still upset. Her eyes were too dark in her face, like black pools. He leaned in and cupped the side of her face, pressed his forehead to hers. "Trying to be funny, sweetheart, that's all. It came out badly."

She swallowed and hid her face against his neck, away from his mother and he felt like a complete bastard for doing it to her.

"Don't... don't make light of that."

"No, no," he murmured. "Never. Never again. It's not funny."

Because if he _did_ get sick, if he stopped taking the stabilizers, the injections, then he very well might end up leaving her alone, pregnant and alone, and he wasn't sure Kate Beckett could live with that.

* * *

Kate walked with Martha's arm hooked through hers, the two of them a few paces behind Castle on the sidewalk. Her husband always took point these days, and for once it was working out to Kate's advantage.

She'd been reminded tonight, so very pointedly, of how easy it would be to... not survive this. Did she think the supplements she took were harmful? No. Not at all. Well, okay, in her darkest moments, in those fives minutes when she woke and her subconscious mind still had hold of her rational side, there was a sick terror coiled around her spine.

But no, tonight hadn't been about the regimen, really. Tonight had reminded her that they had a tenuous deal with a man who had run roughshod over a woman he'd professed to love at one point, a man who had orchestrated things so he could steal his son away from his mother, a man who had put Kate Beckett on her knees and pulled the trigger.

Not to mention all the other ways he'd tried to get rid of her.

The moment this kid was born, her life was forfeit.

And the look on Castle's face in the wine bar when he'd yelled at her about the pills... Kate couldn't get it out of her head. He was _terrified_ of losing her. And, fuck if she didn't understand.

She had already asked her father, in a roundabout way, to look after James if Kate didn't - if Black tried something. She had told Jim that she wanted her son to be close to him and the woods and to learn the skills that would help him survive. At the time, she'd been thinking about how she and Castle were away so much, how a boy might need to learn self-reliance and how to be content, and she'd thought that her father was ideal as both grandfather and godparent.

But now, if Black wanted her dead once James was born, now Kate was worried about Castle.

What happened to him? James would survive, James would never miss what he didn't know; he'd have her father and Sasha and Carrie and the rest of the boys.

But Castle.

She wasn't stupid. He would grieve for a long time; he would be... difficult to reach. He'd abandon this life they'd created and he'd go after his father. But what happened then? After? When grief mellowed out into missing and he'd already broken to pieces what they'd struggled so hard to make?

That was why she needed to get his mother on her side, right now, to let the woman know. That's what she'd been explaining the regimen.

"Martha," she murmured. "You should remember this. The details are-"

"You said twice a month?" Martha interrupted.

"At first," Kate agreed. "But now we have Rick on a kind of maintenance program - or that's the hope. The two doctors we work with, Threkeld and Boyd. Can you remember those names?"

"Yes, darling, of course, but-"

"They're the ones who are taking apart the serum and trying to reverse engineer it. Serum and stabilizers. They go hand in hand. He can't get the serum if he doesn't have stabilizers."

"Do you have stabilizers?"

"Well, that's what the prenatal pills are, in essence. Like having a shot of espresso - there's a shot of serum but it's mostly foam and cream and-"

"Espresso can do quite a lot to get the blood pumping, the heart racing," Martha said adroitly.

"Well, yes. I won't pretend it's not doing _something_. It is. But the idea is that it's all absorbed by the kid, not by me. They're monitoring me closely and Logan, one of the guys working with our doctors, has a trial running on mice. He and Castle are thick as thieves - though Rick thinks I don't know he's messing with it. Of course I know. But what I want you to know is how to maintain the regimen."

"Why?"

"In case. His father is not my biggest fan. We have this deal with him right now, where he's biding his time until James is born. And when James no longer needs me-"

"But he will _always_ need you," Martha got out roughly. She looked like she wanted to believe it, but Martha, of all people, knew what Black was capable of when it came to tearing a son from his mother.

"What are you two conspiring back there?" Castle said, turning on the sidewalk. They were nearly to Martha's block. "Pick up your feet - I don't like you being so far away from me."

Kate sighed at him, but she gave in to his demands. It was just easier not to fight him on this kind of thing, especially when they'd spent all night arguing over whether or not the baby might be doing her harm.

Never. James would never hurt her.

Even if he _did_, she didn't care. She didn't care at all. Only for Castle, for what he needed, and he-

"I need you up here, Kate," he said.

He needed her.

Damn it. She couldn't keep dismissing that. They needed to talk about this after they walked his mother home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

"Good night, Mother," he murmured into Martha's ear. Her hands were curled at his arms as if to hang on and he brushed a kiss to her cheek without really thinking.

She smelled like make-up powder and Chanel perfume; she smelled like the times he'd crawled into her closet and hid out, falling asleep safe and warm and happy.

He blinked and straightened up and saw his mother had tears diamonding her eyes, but she only smiled and squeezed his arms tighter and then let him go. Kate hugged her now and Martha whispered something into her ear that made Kate's eyes close once before she opened them again.

And stared straight down into his soul.

He felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck and wondered again what it was they'd been talking about on the walk to his mother's loft. Martha was living with her current boyfriend, Chip, who was apparently wealthy enough to keep her in style, judging by the ring and the necklace as well, and the building had a doorman with lobby security. He grimaced to see their faces on the monitors overhead, but he left his mother at the elevator and thanked her again for the afternoon.

"Anytime, darlings. Richard, my dear, really. Any time."

"I'll remember that, Mother," he said quietly.

Martha blew them a kiss and then stepped on the elevator, gone just like that.

Chip. He needed to remember to look up the man again; this was beginning to look a lot more serious than he'd thought.

* * *

The phone rang while they were eating breakfast at Brother Juniper's on Fifth. They'd had to wait an hour for a table, but the omelettes were completely worth it. Castle had even relented and given her bites of his salmon omelet concoction (it was heavenly), and she'd drunk her milk like a good girl.

The phone vibrated on the table between them and Kate froze.

"It's Boyd," Castle rasped. "You need to answer it. We need to answer it."

"It's about the amnio," she said, pressing her hand to her stomach.

"Kate."

She snatched the phone off the table and closed her eyes as she answered. "Hello?"

"Kate, it's Dr Boyd. How are you this morning?"

"I'm - eating breakfast." She cast wild eyes to Castle, and he reached out and clutched her free hand. "What's - this is about the amnio, right? What are the results?"

Was he okay? Were they okay? Was-

"You have a healthy baby boy, Kate. No birth defects."

"And the-"

"He does exhibit Castle's modifications at the chromosomal level."

She had always known it, but it was something else to hear it.

Castle's head came close to hers, his ear pressed to the phone. "She still needs the pills, then," he said. His voice was bleak.

She chewed on her inside lip and touched her fingertips to his cheek, softly, a way to soothe him.

On the phone, Boyd kept talking. "Still need the pills, yes. We're seeing some better results than we had expected though. Either the pills are stabilizing these - well, we'd have called them defects if we didn't already know what they've done for you, Rick. But my point is that either the pills are stabilizing influences or the introduction of Kate's own DNA has done the trick."

"If it's just having half the stable genetic material from his mother, then we could quit-"

"We don't know that's the true reason," Boyd answered smoothly. "We only know that the baby seems to have all the genetic material he needs to develop correctly."

"So we keep doing what we're doing," Kate said.

"Yes. Exactly."

"Thank you, Dr Boyd," she told him. She realized that part of her had wanted James to not have the DNA changes, to be a normal kid without any super alterations. But she'd known. She had always known that having Rick Castle's son was going to be different, was going to require more.

"We can talk more this weekend," Boyd told them. "I'll leave you to celebrate the good news."

The call ended and Kate laid her phone back on the table. When she saw Castle's face, she knew it had hit him especially hard. He didn't seem to think of it as good news.

"I've doomed him," Castle muttered. "I've-"

"You made him," she said quickly, snatching his hand from where he was about to bury his face. She kissed his knuckles. "You and I are making a beautiful, _healthy_ baby boy. Don't take that away from us."

He shook his head, and she could see the way his throat worked.

She had only wanted him to be happy, to have everything that had been taken from him. Back when she'd been dreaming about them, about their future, it was only about how she could give him this.

Now it was about their son.

"Rick." She leaned in and kissed him softly, cupping his face. "Hey. James is strong and he's resilient, as we already know, and so he's got a few extra special chromosomes. So what? He has just the parents to help him if he needs help."

Castle nodded again, and he twined their fingers together, but she knew breakfast was over.

"Let's walk." She pulled cash from her pocket to cover the bill and tip, and she tugged Castle up by their joined hands, wanting to dispel his bleak demeanor. "Let's walk and celebrate, like he said."

"Okay," Castle rasped.

* * *

Kate took his hand and led him out of Bother Juniper's and onto the street. She was tugging on him like she knew exactly where she wanted to go and he followed with some strange detachment, watching the way her hair swung against her shoulders. It had gotten long again, in waves around her face and down to the middle of her back. He couldn't resist reaching out while they stopped at a crosswalk and winding his finger around a banana curl.

James was... like him. What was his growth doing to her? How much would it take to keep the kid alive, and not just now, but in the future? When James turned five, what happened to him then?

Kate had turned her head to look at him, a narrowing of her eyes for tugging her hair, but she must have seen his face because she was pressing her lips together in that smile that she didn't want to smile, trying to goad him into smiling back.

He kissed her cheek in deference to the public place, and she squeezed his hand. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Shopping," she said. And now her grin was brilliant, catching the twinkle of lights in the darkness like she was the sun itself and the world was her envious moon.

"I love you," he breathed out, consumed with it.

"I love you too," she said. "And we are going to be fine. Which is why you're coming with me."

"Isn't that always the case?" But she'd turned from him and was leading him back up Fifth Avenue, walking fast to cover ground, and he found himself having to lengthen his stride just to catch up.

About three blocks later, Beckett stopped abruptly and turned to him, pressing both palms flat against his chest. "Juice. I need something to drink. A smoothie. Oh, a fruit smoothie."

"What?"

"I'm pregnant and we just baled on breakfast. I need you to get me a smoothie, Castle."

"You do?"

"And roasted nuts."

"Are you kidding me?" She'd told him once that the only thing she ever craved as far as the pregnancy went were those damn pills. "Roasted nuts and a smoothie?"

"Please?"

He grunted and scanned the busy intersection, the huge crowd of tourists and natives that always filled Fifth Avenue. He didn't want to leave her-

"I'll just go inside and sit down. Rest my feet."

He narrowed his eyes at her. No way in hell her feet were hurting her. No way in hell that if they were she'd actually say something like that.

She only grinned; they both knew she was lying through her teeth, but what was he going to do about it?

"You call me if-"

"Always, baby," she murmured. Her hands pushed on his chest and let himself be nudged away, sighing at the smile on her face.

"All right. Fine. Fruit smoothie and roasted nuts. You do realize we passed a roasted nuts vendor like a block ago, and that stupid Fruit Bar place is just down the block?"

She only beamed.

"Fine," he muttered. But he leaned in and took a biting kiss from that grin just to pretend he was still the boss. "Suddenly, _you're_ the bully, Beckett."

* * *

Castle cradled the smoothie in his elbow, tucked the roasted peanuts under his arm, and snagged his still-vibrating phone from his jeans pocket. He answered her call already knowing what she was going to confess.

"Where are you?" he sighed. Of course she hadn't stayed right there.

"Outside Central Park. Right across from the juice place. I see you," she hummed over the phone.

Castle muttered at her but lifted his head, scanned across Fifth Avenue towards the park. He saw her on the sidewalk just outside the entrance, and she had a white bag dangling from her wrist.

He crossed the street against traffic, jaywalking to reach her, and she let out an exasperated breath when he made it safely across.

"Can't do anything the easy way, can you?"

"With you right in front me, why would I go all the way to the end of the block?"

She shook her head but she was smiling.

"Smoothie?" he said, holding it out to her.

"Save it for me."

He narrowed his eyes but she was herding him into the park. He held the smoothie still in his elbow, but he opened up her roasted nuts and scooped out a handful for himself, tossed them back. She laughed and plucked one from the bag, but of course she wasn't at all interested in it. She sucked on the peanut for the flavor and then chewed slowly, but she was leading him to a bench nestled deep between trees and just off the main path.

"Sit," she said softly. He did but she remained standing for a moment more. Castle put aside the wild-goose-chase errands and reached up to frame her hips with his hands, tugged her closer, between his knees. She cupped the side of his face and he pressed his cheek to her belly and closed his eyes.

Kate ran her fingers through his hair, softly, assuredly, soothing him.

He lifted his head and glanced to the white bag. "What'd you do while I was running around Fifth Avenue on bogus errands?"

She chuckled and pulled the bag from her wrist, laid it in his lap even as she reached for the smoothie. "Really am thirsty now," she shrugged, the straw between her teeth. "Open it."

Castle let himself watch her suck on the straw for a moment, just long enough for her to catch the hint and blush, and she smacked him in the shoulder for it but finally sank down beside him. Castle pushed a hand into the white bag and felt the hard corners of a jewelry box.

He laughed, shooting her a quick look as he pulled it out of the bag. "Are you kidding me?"

"Not kidding you. Or... kid-ding you? Sure."

He rolled his eyes. "So lame, Beckett."

"Open it."

She looked so excited for him to have this, something she'd bought for him on a whim. Or had it been her plan all along? She had pulled him up Fifth Avenue, seemingly knowing exactly where to go, as if she had it in mind.

She'd gotten it at Tiffany's, he saw by the box. Kate was leaning in against his side with her chin propped against his shoulder; he could hear her in his ear sucking on that straw.

So he opened it: he untied the ribbon and lifted the lid from the box and looked down.

Nestled inside were a pair of silver etched cufflinks. The design looked like Frank Lloyd Wright windowpanes or-

"It's a wolf," he said, surprised. He traced the lines of the howling, fierce wolf, stunned at the subtle artistry. He'd almost missed the shape of the beast entirely, the lines and etching so intricate and well-done that the entire piece looked like a stylized native design. "These are... amazing."

She wrapped her arm through his and hummed something, the cold smoothie coming to rest against his thigh. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah," he gruffed, his throat closing up.

"You should have a thank you present."

"Thank you?" he questioned, turning the cufflinks in the park lights.

"Thank you for knocking me up."

He let out a choked laugh and turned to her; she was smiling softly at him because she knew. Despite how much he wanted this, there was an equal part of him that was terrified of it - what it would do to them, to her, what might happen - all because of what he'd selfishly wanted for them.

She was telling him it was okay. More than okay.

Castle leaned in and kissed her mouth, lips brushing and raw, light touches because any more than this would break him.

"I love you," she murmured into him. "I adore you, Rick Castle, and I can't wait to meet our son."

God, she was going to make him cry.

"But now we need to talk about what happens after."

"After?" he rasped, pulling back to look at her.

Her eyes were dark, determined. "When our time runs out with Black."

She was going to kill him with this; he could already feel his heart breaking.

* * *

"None of us have guarantees, you know."

Castle was looking at her like she was betraying him, and she closed her mouth to rethink her approach. Maybe she shouldn't be starting out with death predictions.

"Okay, start over," she said quickly, shifting on the bench to see his face. She pressed her knees to his and smiled. "We have a dangerous job, right? It's calculated risk-taking. We both know how things might end up, and even as a cop, Castle, that was always there. I knew there was a bullet waiting for me, somewhere down the road."

"Well, okay, but that isn't guaranteed either."

"No," she said softly. "No, it's not. Nothing is. And we both like control over the unknown, don't we? You know we're alike in that. I don't want - I couldn't take it if you died... but I know the reverse is true."

He swallowed and nodded gruffly, his fingers curling around the box of cufflinks.

"Castle," she sighed, tracing a nonsensical design over his knee. She lifted her eyes to his and tried to say what needed to be said. "No guarantees - that's just our life, sweetheart. That's life. And what we make of it, what we create out of all that unknown and uncertainty, that's what I treasure. That's what is important to me. Loving you, having you, this marriage and our time together, our son... God, it's more than I could ever have imagined."

He was smiling at her; ease had returned to his face. He quirked the corner of his lips and caught one of her hands. "You know it's the same for me."

"We're in this together," she nodded. Therapy had pounded home the truth of that statement, but she'd known all along that she and Castle were the same in this. No holds barred. Anything. "That's why I'm going to ask you to promise me something."

"No." He shook his head and withdrew against the park bench, already resisting her.

"Castle."

"No, don't."

"Tomorrow isn't a right, it's a gift. And tomorrow-"

"No. Kate."

"Denial won't make it not be true, Rick."

His nostrils flared and his jaw was set, hard as a rock. She waited him out, wanted him to settle before she pushed him again. When his grip on her hand didn't spasm quite so much, she gripped his knee to warn him.

"This is our life. This is what we've made of it - poor choices or accidents or not. We have a son, and we're going to do everything we can to make sure he has a chance in this life we've made. Don't you love him already?"

Castle jerked his eyes to hers with a noise, indignation or grief. "Of course I love him."

"I know you do. I know you do because otherwise you would have never allowed me to put one of those pills in my mouth."

He closed his eyes.

"And while I'm pretty certain the supplements aren't doing damage, Castle, that's not a guarantee either of us can make."

"It kills me," he rasped.

"I know, love," she murmured, her heart breaking for him. "I know. And I know it's not fair of me to take this risk. I know it's not. But I also know that if our places were reversed, you'd do the same."

He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

"I'm asking you, right now, sweetheart, to do this for him. For James. Whatever happens."

Castle stared at her and she felt it building inside her, the grief that already touched everything, had touched them since day one. She felt responsible for it; she'd brought it in with her. Castle had been completely and relentlessly untouched before she'd met him, although that also meant he'd had no capacity for joy either.

"When I met you," she murmured, drawing his hand to her lap. "When I met you, Castle, you were a man under civil war. Machine versus human nature. And I know it's my fault, that I cracked you open, that I broke the machine. But I hope you don't regret it. I hope you can celebrate it, embrace it. I just want you to have - have the chance-"

"Kate, stop," he whispered, drawing him arm up around her neck and pulling her into his chest. She closed her eyes against the struggle of grief and sank into his chest. "Stop, love. You don't have to ask. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Even if - no matter the heartache. Worth it, Kate Beckett. You are worth it."

She lifted her chin to touch a kiss to his throat, the last rumble of his words, and then she spoke. "Then this life is worth it too. The life we've made together. I need you to promise me that you'll survive this, Rick. With James. That the two of you-"

"Don't you dare."

"Please, just-"

"Don't do that to me. Emotionally manipulate me into accepting that you're going to die. You're not going to die."

"Castle," she growled, pushing back. "It's not emotional manipulation. I'm saying that this is a possibility we need to plan for."

"There are better ways," he hissed. "Don't be so damn fatalistic. There's no bullet at the end of this, Beckett. Don't delude yourself into thinking you can quit on us just because-"

"I'm not quitting. Who said I was quitting? I'm asking you to do this with me. I'm asking you to talk to me about this. If I-"

"No. Kids are born premature and survive. We can deliver early if you're in distress. We can-"

"That's not what I'm talking about. Things happen. Life happens, Castle. Don't you think I know that? Better than anyone."

Castle's face grew dark. "Then don't ask me to accept your death as a foregone conclusion. You think I love you less than your father loved your mother? Think I'd be fine with this, that my life would be unaffected?"

She froze, her breath like ice in her lungs. "Castle."

"You were motherless too. You know what happens to a family when the mother is ripped away, so how can you ask me to-"

"I am _asking_ you not to let that happen. Don't let our family fall apart like mine did. Whatever the outcome, Castle. Just _hear_ me when I talk to you. Listen to me. I'm not saying I'm going to die. I'm saying that in _any_ situation that arises, I want you to promise me that you fight for our family."

Castle was still glaring at her, his heart pounding in his chest so that she could actually see his vein throbbing at his temple. He clenched his jaw and she stared him down.

"Kate. I promise you that I will fight for our family. But what you seem to forget is that _you_ are necessary to it. You. I am going to fight for _you_ through this no matter what you say, what fucking fatalistic mindset you have. Just as you'd fight for me."

Castle took a ragged breath and shook loose her grip, scraped both hands down his face. When he looked at her again, all that bleak grief was gone and now it was just a flaming intensity that burned straight down to her bones.

"And don't you dare ask me to accept the end of things when it hasn't even begun."

* * *

After the silence had done what it could to smooth the jagged edges, Castle slowly put the lid on the box of cufflinks and stroked the white top with his fingers.

She'd bought him a present to say _thank you_ for their son. And while the rest of it had been terrible and frustrating and fatalistic, he was going to remember this. The wolf etched like beauty into scattered silver lines.

They'd done that, had been doing that, ever since they'd met. Creating something, subtle as it was, beautiful in spite of the twists and turns. It might not look normal, it might have been in life or death situations, and they might both have been carrying weapons, or running from hit squads, or scaling the fence on a secret military installation, but it was theirs. It was life.

"Rick?"

He nodded to let her know he was still with her, that he wasn't closing her out, and he released the box with one hand and took her fingers, brought them to his lips. His kiss was soft and her hand unfurled against his mouth, stroked his bottom lip.

"I'm fighting for us, Kate," he said into her touch. "I need you to fight for us too."

"Always," she whispered.

He turned his head and caught her gaze, all that rich and dark emotion swirling like black holes in her eyes. She'd caught and trapped him years ago, sunk into the vortex of this thing they had together. It wasn't just _her_, it wasn't some damaged thing in either of their psyches - it was them. It was what happened when they stood together, joined together, moved together.

"We're going to do everything possible to protect James," he told her. "We are going to do everything possible to protect _you_. And me. Because if we lose either of us, none of this works. We do it together."

She nodded, and her hand jerked up to the corner of her eye and brushed across her cheek. Shit, she was crying. Trying not to cry.

"I know you need me," he said quietly.

She gave him a watery smile and nodded, chewing fiercely on her bottom lip.

He sighed and drew her back down into his arms. She never had been able to handle it face-to-face like that. "You know I need you too. I'm not sure you always believe it, but love, I can't go back to being the heartless bastard my father created."

"No," she croaked out. "No, I know."

"If you were gone, Kate, there'd be nothing... I can't go back. Now that I've had you, there's no going back."

"Castle," she moaned into his chest.

He squeezed his arm around her and lowered his mouth to her ear. "The thing is, I know it's the same for you. We are irrevocably ruined for anyone or anything else. So no more talk about what happens if you die. Because it won't happen. We won't let it."

"I have... it's not easy for me." She lifted from his side, fixed him with a troubled look. "I'm not going to blame it on my mother's death; I think I've always been this way. But that one event cemented it. She was ripped from me and so I chose this life. I chose to be on the front lines rather than in the kitchen, to be a fighter and not-"

"If you say lover, this whole passionate, gorgeous speech will be ruined, sweetheart."

She cracked, a smile flickering to life and sliding away just as easily. "You know what I mean."

"I do. I know." He stroked the hair back from her cheek where it had gotten disheveled leaning against him. "I know all too well how it turned everything inside out."

"That's why you're such a revelation to me, Castle. We have together everything I always thought I'd bargained away, everything I vowed to give up if only I got my mother's killer in return. I had a crusade... and now I have us. I don't want to lose this, but it feels like I'm being selfish, asking for more than I possibly deserve, but God, I want it. I want it."

Castle scraped her hair back behind her ear and thumbed her cheek. "We're going to be careful; we're going to be smart, Kate. You're right - we have everything we've been told we shouldn't want. That makes this the most important covert op of our lives. The most important mission yet."

She smiled now, a real thing that had substance behind it. "Yeah?"

"We research it, we put the damn satellites all over it, and we don't let up."

"Yeah." Her eyes were so desperately needy on his; she wanted so badly to believe him, to believe in them. He could get them there. He could.

"Listen," he told her. "Just like any of our other ops, we understand there's a risk. Broken bones, hippos, nuclear materials, whatever. But we make it out. We make it."

Kate drew her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly, her breath coming out in a rush, her fingers scraping through his hair as she clutched him. "Yes. Yes, there might be - things happen. But we're going to make it."

"I will do anything, anything," he rasped, "anything for you."

"Us," she insisted. "It's not just me. It's us and I-"

"Us, Kate, us. I know. I know. For him. For you. Calculated risks, right? We can do this."

She nodded against him, a noise in her throat that sounded like a laugh. "How did this get so backwards?" she choked out. "I was trying to - first it was me telling you not to be afraid of some calculated risk and now I'm the one about to fucking _cry_."

"Hormones are a bitch."

She laughed then, a gorgeous sound in the bright summer sunshine. He grinned back and she shifted away, sinking into the bench, her lips pressed together as if to keep it inside.

"I love you," she told him. "I really - you do something to me, Castle. Make me believe in joy. Hope."

God, she was beautiful. She made _him_ feel beautiful for it, for some words he'd said and a conviction in him that their story was everything.

Kate snagged his hand and pressed it over her stomach, the rounded rise of their son so warm and safe below his palm. He swallowed, shocked by how intimate it felt, intimate when he'd touched every part of her body, knew her better than he knew himself.

"Yeah," she whispered. "Takes me like that too."


	5. Chapter 5

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

Castle created something for their dinner with ingredients they'd had in their own kitchen. She had no idea how he managed it, self-taught as he was, but she remembered that her mother had been the same - able to seemingly produce something of nothing.

Kate helped where he needed it, but mostly she got recruited to peel potatoes and then had to sit down at the table. She didn't mind; she liked watching him work and enjoyed the low hum of activity, the quiet of a weekend alone.

She still couldn't imagine what an added third would be like in their home, how their son would change things. She couldn't imagine him changing anything important - not their love or convictions, not their faith in each other - and so how could daily life look much different?

She knew it would, and yet she found herself unable to imagine it.

Poor kid. He was in for a lot of trial and error on her part. She didn't even have her mother to ask.

Oh. Her mother was - gone. Not just for the spontaneous wedding in Rome that she wouldn't have seen anyway, but for the birth of the first grandchild. Her mother would never see Kate so... happy.

"Hey," he said. "Little help, Kate?"

She lifted her head to him and saw his hands were messy; Castle nodded towards the towel hanging from the fridge so she stood and got it for him. He waited for her at the sink with his hands dripping some kind of sauce and she watched him clean it off, so careful and precise.

She leaned her cheek against the top of his shoulder and wondered how her husband might have been different if his mother had raised him. If he'd been given her advice on love, if he'd grown up in the theatre, if he'd had her example of grace and charm.

Kate wasn't sure she'd have liked him upon first introduction, if they'd ever have met at all. Martha was lovely, but she was... too much for Kate on a daily basis. It took effort to keep up, to shift with her moods, to play to her attention-seeking, but when Kate had the energy for it, it was so much _fun_.

Castle had some of that naturally, something fun that his father hadn't been able to suppress. Kate had witnessed it more and more lately, how he could laugh, how his humor was irrepressible.

A different man, but still him. She was certain, though, that a Martha-raised version of him would never have managed Kate Beckett.

"Hey," he murmured, shrugging his shoulder to jostle her. "What's up?"

"Mm, just thinking about your mom. And mine."

Castle sighed and slid his now-clean hands to her hips. "Yeah? Tell me about her."

Kate pressed her smile into his shirt and inhaled the scent of woods and aftershave, sharp winter meeting the oil and sweat of his skin. "She could cook like you. Effortless, natural."

"I'm not natural," he laughed. "Did she make you guys dinner and stuff?"

"Um, actually? No. She made brunch on Sundays. That was her thing."

"So you have a wide range of appreciation for breakfast foods."

She smiled back and sank against the counter to look at him, watch him prepare the meat. "She made more than just breakfast foods. You'd be surprised what can go into a brunch. But day to day, I guess my parents took turns. I remember my dad making tuna casserole for ages, week after week, and we'd complain. My dad told us if we wanted something different, we could make it ourselves."

"Did you ever cook? With your mom or dinner for your parents or anything?"

"Yeah, with Mom. We did it together on Sundays."

Castle grinned and leaned in to kiss her - quick and happy. "You do make a kick-ass omelet. And your cinnamon rolls are probably the best things I've ever put in my mouth."

"Oh?" Kate arched an eyebrow. "The _best_ thing you've put in your mouth?"

Castle startled and laughed, a kind of breathless sound. "Point for Beckett."

"Thank you. I try. Gotta keep up with you and your dirty mind."

He grinned and bumped hips with her, moving the meat into a wide dish, pushing her out of his way. "Hey, Kate, I've been thinking."

"Uh-oh."

He huffed and gave her a look, amusement running through his blue eyes like looking into a stream. "One way to keep on top of this, to monitor how the supplements affect you, would be to have regular check-ups with King."

"Ah," she murmured, taking Castle's favorite answer to a question.

"Yeah, you're right. That isn't an answer at all," he muttered. "What do you think about that idea?"

"Well, Dr King can't hurt."

He nodded, a little eager, and she laid her palm against his back to reassure him.

"I guess you're thinking about the mood-altering effects?"

"Yeah." He winced.

"I'm not taking that part of it."

"I know that the identifiable benzo isn't in those pills. But remember how you felt once you got the iron infusion?"

"Oh." Kate stood up straighter. "Just having the right levels made things seem so much rosier. Yeah, I see what you mean. I hadn't realized before the infusion just how - depressed isn't the right word. But hopeless? It was hard to hold on to hope when I was always struggling not to feel bad."

"Exactly," he said, a quick breath out. He seemed hesitant to talk to her about this, and she didn't want that. She wanted him to know it was a two-way street here, that they both could communicate about this without death or explosions.

"Thanks, Castle. That's a smart idea. I should talk to Dr King."

He gave her a sideways look, evidently gauging her mood.

"I'm serious. He'd catch on faster if something was out of balance in my mood. Plus he's been part of the program - albeit obliquely - for longer than any other professional we have."

"Hey, what about me? I'm a professional."

She snorted and shook her head at him. "You know what I mean."

"So we'll call him?"

"Yes. We should also put him in touch with Boyd, don't you think? They can share ideas about which elements do what."

"Oh, yeah," he said, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "That's good. Yeah."

Kate raised up on her toes to kiss the side of his face. "It's okay, Castle. You were right. This is the most important mission of our lives. Task all the satellites we got."

* * *

When Castle leaned back against the bed, still sitting on the floor of their room, Kate wrapped her legs around his neck so that her heels drummed his ribs. Castle tilted his head to look up at her on the mattress. She grinned like an imp and he reached up to grab hold of her calves, smooth, shapely, rather delicious.

"Hey, love," he murmured.

"Hey. I need a break."

She'd been camped out on the bed going through the Congo files, he knew, looking for information he just didn't think was there, while Castle himself had been doing department system checks remotely on his laptop, sitting on the floor of their bedroom. Their silence was companionable, but Kate seemed restless.

Sasha was still curled on the bathroom tile where it was cooler, her head on her paws as she watched them, interested only when Kate moved or started talking. "A break sounds good," he murmured, angling to kiss her knee.

Castle skimmed his hands down his wife's shins and hung on to her ankles. Kate combed her fingers through his hair, her nails scraping lightly, making him close his eyes. He swallowed down the yawn that wanted out and rested against the side of the mattress, letting himself drown in her touch.

"I called King's office while you cleaned up," she murmured.

"Mm, yeah?"

"Yeah. Appointment Saturday afternoon. After his kid's baseball game. Did you know Dr King had kids?"

"Yeah, two," Castle answered, opening his eyes. "You didn't?"

"No," she sighed. "I feel bad I never even asked. What are their names?"

"Megan and Drew. He told me some story - oh, I remember. Back when, well, you know it took me some time to sort out my father's..."

"You have issues," she said, smirking a little.

"Yes, well. That. King was telling me a story about his daughter, actually, about the day she was born. Megan. And then he said that it's different with boys. You love them, of course, but that your feelings of protectiveness are switched to responsibility. It's a gender thing."

"Sexist."

He grunted, cocked an eyebrow at her. "No, Kate, not sexist. Just... okay, maybe a little. Huh. Not what we were talking about though. He was trying to show me how fathers have different goals in mind for their sons. Stuff about being a man and protecting others and pride. And Black isn't any different, but the ways he does it - the ways he shows his... love, if that's even what it can be called - it's going to be twisted up because of the covert nature of all of it."

"I could have told you that," she said quietly. "Why do you think this deal works at all? The legacy he wants to leave resides in you, and now in James as well."

"That scares the shit out of me," he groaned, opening his eyes. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, smoothing the spot with her fingers. It actually helped. He was figuring out how to stand down just a little; he was working on de-stressing, for her sake.

"Should we talk more about this?" she told him. "Do you need us to go over it?"

"I don't know."

"I can talk and you can listen, if that helps."

He closed the lid of the laptop and set it aside, thinking carefully. "Okay." He wanted to know how she saw this going, what she thought she was doing here, how they could possibly keep Black out of James's life. How they could keep Kate from Black as well.

"I don't think we can possibly keep your father out of James's life."

Damn. Not what he wanted to hear.

"But I do think we can limit the contact, stay in control. Supervised visitation, if you will."

"I don't want that man visiting my kid."

Kate's fingers combed through his hair, tugging on his bangs. It'd gotten long again, and it needed to be cut - it seemed like it always needed to be cut. He should shave too; it was irritating him at his neck.

"Okay, Rick. You don't want Black to have contact with our son?"

"Of course not."

"Can we... compromise on this?"

Oh. She was _asking_ him? "O-kay. Okay. Why are we compromising?"

Her fingers started to rub circles at his temples. "Because we kind of promised him the role of grandfather if he stopped trying to kill me."

"I don't trust him."

"I trust him," she said quietly.

"What?!" Castle jerked upright, out of her hands, twisting on the floor to stare at her. She was holding both hands up in supplication.

"No, wait. Listen. I trust that he has a plan in mind, and he is going to do anything he can to accomplish it. I also trust that he is the only other person on this planet that will do whatever it takes to keep you alive."

He opened his mouth to refute it, to hotly deny anything good or trustworthy in his father, but Kate was already plowing ahead.

"It doesn't look like anything we want for you," she said quickly. "We both know that his idea of living isn't living at all. But those are two things I can trust to be true about him. Which means that when we put James into his plan, when we establish a direct connection from you to our son, there's an added element of protection for the kid."

Castle closed his mouth, sank back on his heels. "Okay," he rasped. It didn't feel good, but this was everything they'd hammered out in Rome.

"Okay? Okay, good. So part of protecting James means creating an illusion of cooperation with his master plan, remember? But over time, he'll be shown that his master plan isn't the same as ours... though it does have common elements."

"We're telling a story," he said finally. "And we use the same language Black uses, but we have our own end in mind."

"Exactly," she said, flushed and smiling. "That is precisely what we're doing. To make him believe the story, it's going to require Black at least being kept up to date on James's health and progress. Even if we're telling him a bunch of lies, he still is going to need evidence. Anecdotal or otherwise."

"I don't know that we can ever have James and Black meet. Not with the capture/kill order out there."

"I know," she nodded. "I'm just telling you it's a possibility. It means keeping in contact with Black. He has information we need, and we have what _he_ wants to hear about. So he feeds us intelligence on this Collective group, keep us one step ahead of them for your sake-"

"And for James," Castle said. "If the Collective finds out about me, he's next in line, Kate."

She swallowed hard and nodded, her hand coming up in a protective gesture. Only this time when she did it, he could clearly see the outline of her belly.

It took his breath away.

"Which is why I can trust Black," she told him, her fingers soothing her own skin. "You see? He will _not_ let the Collective know about you - his perfect machine."

"Broken machine," he muttered.

"Which is why we slide James in after you," she said quickly. "Like you said, James is next in line. Whether that's true at all or not, doesn't matter. It's what everyone assumes. Even _we_ do. I'm taking these pills because our son is half your DNA, sweetheart. He's got to take his place in this line, if only because of genetics."

"If only? No, he's not taking his place with me, not in this. I don't care what his genetics say; he's not in this. There will be no training, no special skills, no weekend camp-outs on some damn military base. No secure installations-"

"No, baby, no. Of course not." Kate reached out and combed through his hair again. "Castle. It's a story we're selling, remember? None of that will happen to our son."

"Never."

"Never," she promised. "No matter his genetics. Of course, if he needs... if he has super needs, Castle, we'll deal with those as they come up. But otherwise, oh, this is going to be so much different than your experience. James already has such a good father."

"I don't know how to be a good father," he sighed, leaning his shoulder against the bed.

"I told you. You already are," she murmured, her fingers taking up in his hair again. "You're keeping him safe and ensuring his future. You're making sure that his inheritance isn't the one you had."

"I don't want him to - to be nearly forty years old before he realizes that life is so much more than doing a job. You know? I want him to be allowed to think for himself and make his own decisions."

"Yeah, I know," she whispered.

"I want him to choose. Even if he - if he says to us, I want to be a spy. Even then. I still want for him to be the one to make that choice. He should have the whole world to decide from - theatre or arts or sports or, hell, even an accountant."

Kate laughed and laid down on her side so that their eyes were level. She kissed him then, right under his eye, that place she liked to dwell because she said she could feel him being happy.

"I don't want him to need a therapist," she said softly.

And then Castle laughed, because it kind of felt inevitable the kid was going to be seeing _someone_ about his most-likely-crazy childhood. But he let her have it.

"I don't want him to need the regimen," he said finally. "I don't want you to need it either. But I understand there's nothing I can do to change it. Not now. But Kate..."

"Yeah?" She leaned back to look at him, giving him her attention.

"I don't want us to do this again. Okay? Can we... agree on that? Once is enough. This will be our last time."

"Yeah," she said softly. "We don't need to try for another."

He wasn't sure that was exactly what he'd asked for - not trying for another wasn't the same as not being pregnant again. But for now, he'd take it.

She kissed him again, a light thing, and she gripped the back of his neck with a grin. "Hey. Since this is our one and only shot, let's ditch the work. Crawl into bed with me and let's shop for baby stuff."

He laughed, tilting his head to study her. She was serious. Huh, okay. "What kind of stuff?'

"Cute stuff. Stupid stuff. Totally not spy stuff. Or well, spy enough to keep us from wanting to vomit in our mouths with the cuteness. Right? So, come on."

Castle set his jaw, narrowed his eyes, but he _had_ just thought of winter woods and wolves on the empty bedroom's walls.

"Yeah, okay. Scoot over, Beckett. Let's ditch the work."

* * *

She was kind of in love with him.

The big goofball.

Who knew her big bad super spy would be so opinionated about what went in his son's room? It wasn't like they were decorating for a girl, with pink and frilly things and-

Okay, no, not even a girl of theirs would have a frilly bedroom. No. But this was just a boy, and Castle had such firm and convicted ideas on what should and shouldn't be in the baby's room.

But she liked it. "Sasha will like that too," she murmured. Castle had the laptop and was checking out from their shopping cart on Amazon. It was an alias account, of course, and their packages would come roundabout to the Office after going through a couple of drop sites, but they had time for that.

"You really don't mind the trees?"

"I'm serious," she told him, leaning against his arm. His free hand was tucked between her legs, his thumb stroking over the side of her thigh so that his elbow was tucked against her stomach. "So long as you don't mind the bedding."

"No," he chuckled. "I was just giving you a hard time about that. I think grey is fine, especially for a boy."

"But not depressing, right?"

"Kate," he chuffed. "I was messing around. Besides, it has the navy pad things - what were those called?"

"Bumper pads."

"Yeah that," he said, typing in the memorized credit card number for his alias. "And the name art thing - that's good too."

"Good," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "Okay. So we have a crib, bedding, a rocking horse that he can't possibly even sit up on for nearly that whole first year-"

"Yeah, but it's an inflatable dinosaur horse thing. It's awesome."

"It is awesome," she said softly, smiling at him. "Even garish green. Even with that thing's creepy eyes."

"I wish they had one for adults. It says it holds 300 pounds. I could try it out when it gets here."

"I would pay good money to see that," she laughed. His fingers on her thigh were comforting, soothing, so that when he spoke next, she practically missed the intent in his words.

"We've just purchased the major furniture," he told her. "And every time we made a choice on something, Kate, you talked like you weren't going to be here to see it. Like your picture only holds him and me."

Her heart stopped.

He tightened his hand on her thigh. "Don't think I don't hear it. You're selling me a story here too, and I'm telling you now, if you're not in that story, I don't want it."

"Castle," she husked, throat closing up.

"No. Don't say anything. I think if you tried to rationalize it, I might get violent."

So she didn't talk; she kept her mouth shut. Because he wasn't right, but she could see Castle and their son, she could envision it. She just couldn't always put herself into that picture.

"No, don't say anything," he echoed. His fingers stroked her knee. "Instead, let me tell you a story. Let me tell you how this goes."

She nodded, keeping quiet, because she knew it wasn't good, feeling like this. She knew that this deal they had with his father didn't extend that protection towards herself and that there had always been a sword hanging over her neck. But it'd been like that ever since her mother had died and she had taken up the crusade. For that inevitable bullet to be from Black's gun didn't change the ending.

"We're going to have our son," Castle started. "We'll name him after your father because he deserves that honor, after everything he's been for us. Because it's the only name he could possibly have now."

Kate tried a smile, but she knew it was falling flat. She wanted to be caught up in Castle's story about their future just as she always had been - swept away even if the reality of things didn't seem to match.

"James will come home with us to meet his wolf-sister," Castle rumbled. Sasha perked her ears up at that, sharing the bed with them, and he petted her. "We'll show James his room and the garden in the backyard, you'll probably do a tour of the panic room, just for my sake."

And just like that, she could picture it. Castle was creating it right in front of her very eyes, the way she would carry her son inside the basement safe room, just so the boy would know the sound of things in there, so he'd be comfortable and never afraid.

That was something she'd do. And she'd whisper in her son's ear, _Don't mind Daddy; he just wants to keep us safe_.

"We'll put him in his carrier and he can keep us company while I make dinner. You'll probably be on the laptop, working remotely because you just can't help yourself. You'll tell me you've been out of the game too long as it is, and I'll remind you that we're both on leave for six weeks. You'll kiss me, because you're trying to get your way, and just when it's starting to get interesting, the baby will fuss or squirm or make some other small movement and we'll have to get him. And maybe he's not hungry at all, maybe he just wants some attention, wants to be in on the love because he can sense it even then, because he knows our voices and wants to be with us-"

Kate let out a noise and threw her arms around him, burying her face in his neck. "Yes," she rushed out. "That's - that's it. That's how it will be."

She couldn't see it before, but she did now.

She saw their whole lives ahead of them.

"Kate," he murmured at her ear. "Kate, sweetheart, you're his mother. So you do whatever it takes to put yourself back in the story."

"I'm there, I'm already there," she choked out. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at hope."

"It's not hope, love. It's our future. Hope would be if I had said that we'll manage to get further than second base before our son will interrupt us."

Kate laughed, a stuttering and too-loud noise against his skin, but she was just so grateful. She hadn't realized quite what she'd been doing today, how she'd been preparing everyone in their lives to carry on without her. Asking Martha to remember the doctors' names, reminding Castle of their deal with Black. She'd been trying to get everything in place, like a woman settling her affairs.

That wasn't fair to him. It wasn't fair to _her_. Or their son.

"You with me, Kate?"

"I'm with you," she promised. "I swear. I'm not going anywhere. This is my family; this is what I want."

"Good," he said roughly. "Good. If you have trouble holding on to it, you just let me know. I'll retell that story as many times as it takes."

* * *

Castle woke before the alarm, and he took a moment to slide his hand across to Kate, run his fingers along the back of her shirt and under. Her skin was warm, and he closed his eyes, let himself dwell there a moment.

He shifted closer, eliminating some of the space between them; his palm pressed flat to the ribs and climbed over her side to find her stomach.

Oh, wow.

She was - there was actual - Castle propped himself up on an elbow and eased forward to look.

There was definitely a bump. Not just the rise they both could see if they were looking, but this was - if she wore that black camisole she always wore in the summers, everyone would know. Unmistakeable.

Castle brought his lips to the slope of her hip, smiled to himself as she sighed in sleep. She was so relaxed, not pulling in her muscles, so that probably didn't help, but she most definitely looked pregnant. She was out of the first trimester, so it was probably time to tell people anyway.

He released his hold on her and got out of bed, stretching and yawning. He left her sleeping and headed for the shower, planning out the day in his head. King - they hadn't really told the man their news, hadn't been back to him in months. Not since Castle had recovered from his illness.

After her session with Dr King - and here, Castle fully expected to be there for part of it, at least - they'd have the rest of their day to arrange for deliveries and do whatever other preparations. She had a doctor's appointment in two weeks, and the ultrasound scheduled at Stone Farm. Boyd and Threkeld would probably have minor adjustments to those supplements she took; they were always calling to say they had a better version.

When Castle got out of the shower, Kate was already awake, apparently discovering for herself how she'd gotten pregnant overnight. She stood at the bathroom sink in that black camisole he had known she'd wear, and she turned and gave him a disconsolate look.

He rubbed his hair with a towel and laughed at her. "Babe, you look fine."

"I look fucking pregnant."

"In a good way."

"There isn't a good way," she muttered, turning back to the mirror. "I don't know how to hide this. This is beyond hiding."

"So don't," he said, shrugging.

Kate spun around. "Don't?"

"Don't."

She stared at him a long moment and then suddenly she was wrapping her arms around him, his shower-wet skin clinging to her shirt. She kissed him, mouths fused together, her tongue darting out to dance inside.

He groaned and snaked his hand through the hair at her nape; it'd gotten so long and he loved having a fist of it, the way it brushed his arm as he kissed her.

She broke with a smile lighting up her face and her hands framing his jaw; he hadn't shaved yet and her fingers rubbed against the scruff. "You're okay? Really okay?"

"I'm more than okay," he promised. He should've gotten his head on straight sooner, should've realized what his paranoia was doing to her. He'd wasted so much of their pregnancy on fear, when all she'd wanted for them was joy.

"Well, okay then," she grinned. Her lips came back to his for a kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too," he murmured.

"I can see that," she hummed, laughing a little as her fingers teased his bare skin. He'd been using his towel to rub his hair dry but that left him sans towel. She was finding all the best spots.

"Uh, you have a... session with King," he tried, already falling into another kiss.

"I know," she whispered. "But he's used to us being late."

"Very late," he warned, skimming a hand up the back of her camisole to feel the wings of her shoulder blades.

"Yeah, love, very late," she agreed.

He took her back to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

Therapy always put her in the mood, though it wasn't the actual idea of sitting down and dissecting her soul that turned her on. Not one bit. It was that she had always tried to avoid therapy with a kind of therapy of her own - physical - so now whenever Castle looked at her in that parental, _it's time to go_ look, she got hot for him and really wanted to delay the inevitable.

They'd been delayed.

Now she sat in King's office wearing her favorite black pants (a rubber band hooked around the button and looped through the buttonhole to get them closed _sigh_), and the black camisole that had become a staple of her wardrobe, plus flat gold sandals on her feet. She sat cross-legged in the usual armchair, her fingers playing with the African feminine power statue. She liked the smooth, ebony wood and the woman's upraised arm.

She liked having something to touch while she talked.

"Well, it's quite obvious what you've been up to," King said good-naturedly. He was smiling at her in that way he had, a not-smile but a tug of his lips in the corners. He nodded his head towards the rise of her stomach - small but there. Definitely there.

"Hm, it is rather obvious, isn't it?" she said, offering the same back. Castle had gone on to the Office to deal with a few items that had come up on the feed, so she had an hour or so to kill time with King.

"All right, so," the therapist encouraged.

"So we're pregnant," she said, smiling a little now. Her gold sandals winked from the floor and she realized she wasn't looking at the therapist, so she lifted her head to prove she was good. "That's kind of why I'm here."

"Having some mood swings?" he inquired. He didn't look surprised; she wondered had this been normal at all, would she have had mood swings? Did a woman with her history mean she was subjected to instability? It was a sour thought.

"No mood swings, actually. None. I feel really good. Which is - kind of the problem. Related to the problem. See, there are these pills-"

"Oh," King said. His face actually blanched. She'd never seen him react so viscerally before. Never seen him react, period.

"Yeah," she said finally. "It's not... fully the regimen. But Castle's team at the Farm have isolated certain elements from the supplements that are designed to boost the kid's development should he need it."

"It's a boy?" King asked faintly, like it was habit to probe deeper, but his mind was on other things.

"It's a boy," she answered. "James."

King came back to her then, his eyes meeting hers. "James." His smile grew on his face, the second emotive look she'd gotten from him in a matter of seconds. "After your father?"

"Yes. And Castle, in a way." She smiled at King so he'd see it.

"In a way - oh, James Bond?" he chuckled. "Very nice, Kate. Your capacity for amusement and humor, that's what allows both of you to thrive in situations where others would falter. Humor and faith in each other. Those are important."

"Well, the reason I'm here is because of those pills," she moved on. She really hated it when King started to dissect her relationship with Castle. It wasn't a thing that could be understood under a microscope. It wasn't amusement and faith, because God knew they'd given up on both of those from time to time - Russia, Castle's sickness, Tunisia, even Copenhagen had its horrors.

"All right," he said, but a question was in his voice. "Oh, don't tell me you're taking any of the benzo-?"

"No," she hastily assured him. "No, definitely not. But I do think that it's possible other elements in these supplements are mood-altering. I've... you know my past. My addictive personality. I come by it honestly, but unlike my father, I've never been cured of it. It's just shifted to Castle."

"And now to the regimen, you mean."

She winced and rubbed her forehead. Honesty. Be honest. "To the regimen," she admitted. "But I think... I believe it's back on Castle now."

"That's not healthy either, you do realize."

"I know. But at least it's not going to kill me."

King lifted an eyebrow.

Shit. "All right. So I'm not cured of my addictive personality, but I do believe the behavior is in check. Right? Still these supplements. I don't want to fall back into that just because I'm deluding myself into believing it's good for the baby."

"Is it good for the baby? Do you know that for sure?"

She nodded. "The levels... he was, um, leaching calcium from my bones, my teeth, at a rate that... Boyd said one fall and I'd have shattered. It was actually lucky that I got my ribs kicked in because Boyd found hairline fractures that never healed completely."

"Kicked in the ribs? Was that from the time you were arrested?"

"Yes," she said shortly, her throat working. Back on track. Bracken wasn't important. "After that, I went overseas and then when we came back in town, Boyd found that my ribs hadn't healed all the way. Which was why they still ached when I breathed."

"Which you hadn't told Richard about."

She sighed, rolled her eyes at him. "I told him when we got back to the States."

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, fine, it's just that we've been dealing with a lot here, and he didn't need another thing to worry about."

"I think you know why his paranoia ratchets up the way it does."

Kate twisted her fingers around the statue.

"Kate."

"Because I don't keep him informed," she muttered.

"Because you withhold necessary information. It's a snake eating its tail, Katherine. You don't tell him things because you don't want to worry him, and he worries because he knows you so well he's certain you're not telling him things."

"I know," she sighed. "I've been better. I swear I was better at this. But now I'm taking these pills and Castle is... freaked."

"He knows what happens to those on the regimen."

She lifted her head and pierced King with a look. "He does. And you?"

"I saw preliminary studies," he admitted. Though from him it didn't sound like a confession, merely information he'd chosen to reveal carefully. "The soldiers who volunteered for enhancement training - they exhibited signs of combat stress and post-traumatic disorder. Eventually, the plan was scrapped when two when AWOL."

"And slaughtered an Afghan village," she commented dryly.

King flinched. Again she'd hit him with knowledge he hadn't known. "Ah."

"Is _that_ where Castle learned it?" she said. "Because _ah _is not a response. It's not even an answer. It's beyond frustrating."

"You're one to talk."

She laughed, startled by him. She'd evidently flustered him. He never shot back like that; he was good at flat-out stating her issues, but he didn't retaliate.

She liked him better now for some reason.

"I was unaware of the homicides," he replied. "I did know that early test subjects showed a likelihood for damaging the frontal lobe, where reason and inhibitions are located, but those were tests that I had seen back in 60s. Right before the program was disbanded."

"If you knew the program had been disbanded in the sixties, why did you continue to monitor Castle well beyond that?"

"Because I was told it was merely supplements and the mood stabilizer. I had no knowledge of the serum until you two came to me."

She swallowed, realizing how her own statement to King at the start of their session sounded incredibly alike the ones Black had made to him as well. _It's just supplements._ No wonder King was suspicious of her. He'd been told that before, and look what had happened.

"I promise - as I promised Castle - it's like taking a super prenatal vitamin. Um, literally super. It has extra vitamins to keep the baby healthy - and me as well. If I don't take those pills, there's not enough nutrients. Plus I... there is a diluted kind of serum by-product that Boyd has come up with which should give James what he needs if his red blood cells have that super bent to them."

Which no one had been able to say, one way or another, that they would. Just because he had inherited Castle's chromosomal differences, didn't mean that his red blood cells would be altered. No one knew. They were in the dark on this, which was why Castle was afraid. She knew that.

"What happens to James if you continue these pills and his DNA doesn't have those super genes?"

She nodded; they'd already weighed that in the balance. "We had an amnio - he has the DNA for it. But we continue to test it. Every week they're making sure it's nothing that does permanent damage. So far it hasn't been enough to alter our test mice, though it has contributed to better rate of oxygen exchanged in the blood of those baby mice. We're keeping it closely monitored. We're not being stupid about it."

"Do you know Black said the same to me back in the sixties?"

Kate sucked in a breath.

King relented first; he'd never done that before either. "You're here because Richard wants me to keep an eye on you. Make sure you don't go crazy - lose frontal lobe faculties and murder Afghan villages."

"Yes," she croaked. _Black said the same to me._ "Yes, that."

"All right, Katherine," he sighed. He'd called her Katherine twice today. "I'll need you to come weekly. I want to take a look at what is in those pills. Can I speak freely with Dr Boyd?"

"I've got everything right here," she said, tugging the piece of paper from her back pocket. "Boyd's secure email. He'll let you know what's in it, down to the last filler. I really appreciate you doing this."

"Of course I'm doing this," he sighed. "I just wish you didn't have to."

* * *

Kate sighed and rubbed her temples; therapy was endless today after her confession. "Yes. Okay. I'd... call it a craving."

"Ah."

She was seriously going to shoot him if he didn't stop saying that. She lifted her head and King was already backtracking, a faint smile on his face as he answered.

"Well, I definitely will need to take a look at these pills and see what might be affecting you, but Kate, have you asked yourself if it's psychosomatic?"

She gritted her teeth. Was he asking her if it was all in her head?

"It's likely that these pills are making you healthier than you've been in... years. I didn't know you before you'd been shot at your Captain's funeral, but at least since that time, you've been in and out of one thing after another. Your seasons of total wellness have been few and far between."

"You make me sound like a wreck."

"Well."

She snorted, but he only lifted an eyebrow. "Okay," she sighed. "Yes. I was a wreck after my mother died. You know that - we've talked about it. But Castle - the work we do - the work you and _I _do here - all of that has helped me be less of a wreck."

"I wasn't exactly saying emotionally, Katherine. I only meant physically."

Oh. Well, she was falling in and out of one thing after another. "That's the job," she shrugged.

"And some of it has been self-inflicted."

"Self-inflicted?"

"Would you like to talk about Tunisia now?"

Kate shivered, suddenly chilled in the overly air-conditioned office. She rubbed her arms and glanced out the window. "Not especially."

"Do you think you've worked through that? The two of you, I mean."

"Yes." She dropped her hands from her elbows and felt the rise below her ribs, had to smile. "Well, look at me. I think we worked through it. Forgave each other."

Dr King actually chuckled. "Point taken. That is how you two always manage to resolve things."

"One way or another."

"What have you learned from Tunisia?"

"Um. That there's a better way," she started. "I don't have to - well, like you said. Self-inflict. That's not necessary all the time. I won't ever stop trying to keep Castle alive, but it doesn't always require my own life in sacrifice. It's not a deal I'm making, me for him."

"Ah - oops, sorry. Habit. I'll go ahead and agree with that statement, and add one more thing: keeping Castle alive is not a solo endeavor. It is, at the very least, a joint effort the two of you make. And probably could be extended out to a great number of other people, friends and family, who would be more than willing to shoulder that responsibility."

She sighed, rolled her eyes at him. Like Black - Castle's own father was in the regimen too. "Yes. I do understand that."

"Myself included," King told her quietly.

She went still, struck by what he was actually saying. Not John Black alone. There were others who knew of the regimen, who knew what had been done to Castle, who knew _them_ and would fight for them. Boyd and Threkeld and Logan, but also - Esposito and Ryan, Mitchell, Mason, Reynolds. They had a _family_ in these people.

Somehow she always lost sight of that.

"Thank you," she husked.

"Just as I said when you called before. During your arrest. If it had come to it, to clear your name, Kate, I would have gladly been burned with the CIA. My job is to help, to restore, and while, yes, there are others I see who would need to find a new psychiatrist, it wouldn't have been life or death as it was with you."

She swallowed and chewed on her bottom lip. "I know," she said finally. Because she did know, and it had been the reason she and Castle had refused to use him like that. It was mutual.

"And so Tunisia is fixed."

She laughed softly, glad for King's particular humor. "It's been made right, as you like to say." He hated it when she came into his office and said, _fix me_, because that was always what she was gunning for. Getting it fixed. He always said, _let's make this right._

"And thus James."

She chuckled this time and he shared it, evidently happy for her. She had never before seen such displays in Dr King. "Thus James," she added. "You know we've been trying for a while. It just - I guess it was the perfect storm. Me desperate to fix it - make it right - and Castle desperate to make his point."

"You mean to claim you."

She grunted. Sometimes he saw way too much of their intimate lives. She wondered again how much Castle told him about their sex life. "Yes. He likes to make his mark."

"Well, that's quite a lovely way of thinking about it."

She laughed and her eyes flew up to his. He was making fun of her. He'd never done that before.

Maybe she actually _was_ better than she'd thought. Some addictive behavior that she couldn't quite crush was nothing compared to the shit she'd brought into this office before. She had been working on herself and on her relationships for years now, and at some point progress was bound to be made.

"You think I'm pretty good, don't you?" she said.

"Pretty good?"

"Like, in the head."

Dr King smiled that non-smile with the corners of his mouth again. "Well, officially, Kate Beckett Rodgers, I'd say yes. Pretty good in the head. No one is perfect or without issues. Everyone has damage. You, at least, are able to recognize the warning signs and act to counter the problem. You now have coping skills you use to not even know about, and even your panic attacks are self-correcting."

"Thank you," she said, feeling pretty damn proud of herself. "I-"

The door thundered under a rapid fist, and Kate rolled her eyes. Castle. He needed to wait. She had at least twenty more minutes. This was good stuff. She was _good_.

"Kate!"

"Hold your horses," she called back, shooting a sly look to Dr King.

King however, had stood and moved for the door. His face held an element of concern that she only then recognized in her husband's pounding. And then the tone of his voice registered as well.

"Beckett! Right now - open the door right now-"

Alarm.

She jumped from the chair and hustled after King, managed to reach it a second before he did. She flipped the lock and yanked the door and Castle fell into her, catching himself on her shoulders.

He was sweat-soaked. Had he _run_ here?

"It's Dr Threkeld," he croaked. "Threkeld's been taken."

* * *

"_What_?"

Castle didn't have time to explain. "We have to go. Assembling a team at the office. Right now. Sorry, doc. Later."

"Castle, but-" He gripped her hand and tugged her after him and she half-turned back to King. "You have Boyd's email. Please just-"

"I'll get started on this. You do your jobs."

Castle hauled her towards the elevator, filling her in even as she seemed entirely too bewildered. He knew he had yanked her out of therapy too soon; she always needed time. But they didn't have time. "Logan called me. He said he met Threkeld's flight at the airport - he's always routed through random cities - so it took a couple hours before he knew Threkeld hadn't made it. He called the airlines; Threkeld hadn't checked in."

"I..."

He ignored her confusion and plowed on, pulling her after him off the elevator. "Logan called his cell, his home, no answer. He sent the local bureau to check out the home; they found it tossed."

"Oh, God."

"We're setting up a command center," he repeated. "I need you to coordinate things, Kate. Can you-"

"Yes. Yes, I can do that. You're going to Stone Farm?"

"Meeting Logan at a neutral site and bringing him and Boyd in. Ragle has already locked down the Farm and started a manhunt for Threkeld, so you need to coordinate with him."

Ragle, the guy in charge of Stone Farm - did she remember that? The look on her face wasn't promising.

"Yes, I can do that," she was nodding now.

He felt her fingers gripping him, tighter, with it again, and he raced out of the building with Kate at his side. He remote unlocked the doors to the Range Rover that he had double-parked, and Kate hopped in before he could even get around the hood.

She'd started the engine with the push button since the keys were on him and close enough, and all he had to do was jerk it into gear and pull into traffic. Beckett had her seatbelt on and was reaching across his body to do the same for him, and he caught the strap and her wrist as well, kissed the soft skin at her pulse point.

She made some low noise and buckled him in, and he switched lanes and headed fast for the tunnel. They'd done this mad dash to the Office before, nothing new, but he had a sense of doom hovering over them this time.

"If it's the Collective-"

"I know," he said tightly.

"Please do not cut me off."

He shot her a chagrined look. "I'm sorry."

She pressed her lips together, her forehead creased; he averted his eyes to study traffic, going at a high rate of speed, constantly balancing risk and reward.

"If it's the Collective, they're looking for Black's secret program. They're looking for you."

"Yes," he answered, cautiously because he knew there was more.

"Which means they looked at the handful of qualified scientists and doctors, and they've been tracking them for a while now. Studying their patterns, their interruptions, their secret business meetings."

"Oh," he said.

"They had a search grid, and they followed it. They're a machine, after all. Isn't that what your father said? They have a plan in place and he fucked them over by keeping your identity secret."

"They don't actually know that I'm-"

"Charlie One."

"Right. They don't know that Charlie One - me - that I survived. They don't know Charlie One was a five year old boy. All they know is that my father didn't actually terminate the program after the fuck-up in Afghanistan."

She cleared her throat and he went silent, waiting on her. She was always so difficult to talk to after therapy; she was deliberate and too thoughtful, she weighed every word. He was too impatient for action.

"Either way," she finally went on, "they know there are remnants of the program. They know Black kept it going when he said he hadn't, because they saw that base in the Congo and they destroyed it trying to get to Black. And for all it looks like from the outside, what we're doing at Stone Farm _is _the program, Castle. It looks like exactly what the Collective thinks Black is up to."

"Okay," he said, trying to slow himself down as well. "The other doctors and scientists - a small handful would know enough about blood disorders - but how would they have arrived at Threkeld? He's an infectious disease guy."

"Blood disorders, Castle. It's all blood disorders. They'd assume Black had the best in the field. Saber is out of commission; he's too old anyway. And the usual group was associated with that first stage of experiments under the MK-ULTRA umbrella - they're tainted, and known, but they'd be a place to start. It would have to be people like them."

He hadn't quite put that together. Kate was the one who'd pored over those Congo documents. He'd listened but most of it made him supremely disinterested. Dr King said it was a symptom of his denial, the way his childhood self had protected his psyche from what King labeled abuse.

It wasn't _abuse_. It was...

"So we have a small pool of applicants," Kate went on. "And they'd have been digging into their backgrounds. What we have to do now is ensure that all traces of _our_ connection to Threkeld are nonexistent. Let him be traced back to Black, fine. But not us. Not you."

"I was in the hospital in New York," he said, suddenly remembering. "The hospital had records."

"Mitchell expunged those records. And I know your father went back through and checked. He was - less than encouraged by my negligence."

"Ignore him," Castle growled. "Focus on Threkeld. What else connects us?"

"Emails and phone calls. The drop sites where we've picked him up as a favor to Ragle on our way to Stone Farm."

"That's been twice."

"So we need to scour those sites for video surveillance, witnesses - just to be sure. And then whatever Threkeld has written down in his own notes."

"He's not supposed to take them off-site," Castle answered.

But they both went silent. They knew how difficult it was to leave work at work; they both had stuff at home on the secure laptop upstairs that was, of course, password protected and behind the CIA firewall on the network, but it was still technically not allowed.

"Ah," Castle said finally, rubbing his jaw.

Kate made a noise and put her head in her hand. "Castle. This is... this could be really bad. We need to get Threkeld back _soon_."

"Yeah," he choked.

"Before they break him."

Shit.

* * *

Beckett stole a moment with her husband as he was suiting up in the cellar with Mason and the skeleton crew. Everyone had seen her come in with Castle only thirty minutes ago, they all knew she was pregnant - it was unavoidable in her casual clothes. But no one had said anything.

"I don't like that you're going out there," she told him. He was shrugging on the lighter-weight bulletproof vest and she took over for him, velcroing it at the sides. "The Collective is looking for you."

"They're looking for the results of the program. They don't know it's a man."

"I still don't like you chasing after them."

"Someone has to stay here at the Office and collate the data. No one on this team - no matter how much we've weeded out the moles and leaks - no one can know about me. Or the regimen. Not only for me, for you, but for their own sakes as well."

"I know," she murmured, smoothing her palm across the velcro. Castle turned and she cinched up the other side, feeling exposed even as Castle layered himself in tact team gear. "Doesn't mean I like us separating."

"I don't either," he said quickly. "But there are only two of us - one to cover what we retrieve in the field and one to collate it back here. No one else can do this, Kate, but you and me. No one. James is at risk here too - no one can know about the super side to it."

She nodded; she knew that. She knew it. Her immediate concern was keeping James's father alive though. "You keep the channel open," she told him roughly. "You answer me when I call you."

"I will." He nodded and she saw the seriousness on his face; he wasn't making fun. He knew. She released the bulletproof vest and watched him load the pockets with ammo and light defensive weapons - he even had throwing stars, the show-off.

"Before you go, kiss me. Hard." She swallowed down the desperation as she said it, but Castle cupped her face in his hands and kissed her like she'd asked. Rough and teeth clashing, furious and needful. He was angry; she knew he would be.

"Baby, don't look at me like that," he growled.

"Go get Threkeld," she said, turning her face away. "But don't let them get near you."

* * *

Kate addressed the scant team assembled before her in the Command Center. She was still only in black pants, black camisole, but she'd tossed on a light NYPD windbreaker in deference to the air conditioning.

She had Ryan and Esposito with her, and they knew the details about the regimen, but the other five analysts did not. "Okay, guys, thank you for coming in on short notice."

She had a few grim smiles back, but a couple looked frustrated for a call like this. She and Castle had decided to go with their usual prime-time shift rather than the skeleton crew on Sunday roster. Castle, though, had strapped up with Mason and the skeleton security force - but those were former Special Forces; he'd be fine.

"Let me explain why the top security clearance. Dr Threkeld - the man who has gone missing - is a consultant out at Stone Farm. I see some of you know that name. Stone Farm is a secure location for CIA agents to rehabilitate and be debriefed. It's run by Captain Ragle, who is coordinating the search for Dr Threkeld with us. Both Agent Castle and myself have recouped there, and most recently, Dr Threkeld was essential is saving my husband's life when he encountered a biological agent out in the field."

A few knowing looks passed between some of them. She saw Esposito eyeing the group and was grateful he was keeping tabs on everyone.

"I'm sure some of you heard rumors about it. We nearly lost him at Christmastime, but Dr Threkeld and the team at Stone Farm saved his life." She let that sink in, the twisted version of the truth, and then she went on. "Right now, Agent Reynolds is meeting two of the medical team members who have full-time residence and will be bringing them back to join us. Their safety is one of our priorities."

Ryan lifted a finger and she nodded to him, ceding him the floor. She kept her hands behind her back because she wasn't about to start hiding the pregnancy now. Let them know, let them speculate, let them sympathize - it would make them work harder for her.

Ryan shifted at his station and stood. "We have a secure network check in place, so you're going to be asked for password proof at least three times. Please don't be frustrated, just enter your code quickly. If it kicks you out, come talk to me personally. The grid looks like this-"

Here, Ryan threw the map up onto the main board and everyone turned to look.

"We have teams here and here and here, triangulating Dr Threkeld's cell phone to its last known location."

Ryan adjusted the map view. "Threkeld's home location is here, east of Memphis, affluent neighborhood. Castle and Mason are already flying out now on a military craft with the tact team."

A hand went up and Kate pointed to the man. "Hosad?"

Omkar pushed his glasses up his nose and shot her a nervous look. "I've looked at TBI's initial findings on scene, Agent Beckett. It was a thorough search and not the scene of an attack."

"Thank you," she told him. "When Castle gets there, I'll have you patch in to his comm and you can navigate him on scene. He tends to touch things."

Omkar gave a little chuckle and the others in the room seemed to ease. Kate crossed her arms over her chest and nodded to Ryan to continue with the analyst side of things.

"Once we pinpoint the cell phone, whatever we get there will need immediate priority on recoverable data. Dina and Harding, that will be yours. He may have gotten a phone call, a text, he might have information on his phone that is actionable. Plus whatever we find in his home office. If you run into biological weapons details, I am going to need you to immediately task it to myself or Agent Beckett and close down your work stations."

Omkar was the one who raised his hand again and Kate was beginning to like him. He pushed for accuracy even though he was shy. "Agent Beckett? Why exactly are we being read-in on this? It seems above my pay grade for sure."

"Agent Castle and I both agree that there are too many secrets, too many partitions. We're hoping to avoid the pitfalls we've had along the way and reorganization is key. If you know what I know about an operation, then eventually, we get to a point where I can trust you and you can trust me no matter what strange piece of intel you get. You'll come to me, or I'll come to you, and we can work it out. Because, unlike John Black, Castle and I believe you are all good people, loyal to your country and to the cause of freedom."

And it made it more likely that anything suspicious she and Castle did in regards to Black would be seen as more open and innocent than it really was. If they claimed an open door policy, then the transparency of the people working under them began, psychologically, to look like transparency from Castle and herself as well.

"Isn't the CIA built to keep secrets?" Hosad pushed.

"Yeah, Omkar, it is. But they don't always have to be from each other. If you and I can keep a secret, if Espo and Ryan and I can keep a secret, why can't all four of us? Why can't this group in this room know the details of a mission regardless of the target or intention?"

Except she wasn't giving them every detail. She was giving them a version of the truth.

"Thank you," Hosad said then. "I think analysts always work better if they're given the whole picture. And I'll speak for all of us in this room when I say we're glad to be a part of it. And... congratulations."

For a second, she had no idea what Omkar meant. And then she realized and laughed, glancing down at herself. It really was noticeable. "Thanks, Omkar. I guess you could say that's another secret we all can keep?"

She had a round of light laughter to that pronouncement, but they knew. She should have been desked weeks ago, but she'd been in the field. And she would be out in the field again, most likely, before this was over with.

"All right," she said briskly. "Your assignments are up on your stations. Don't hesitate to ask Ryan or myself if you have trouble or questions or come across intel that doesn't sit right."

She moved back to her own station, and suddenly she heard in her ear, "Sexy."

She startled before she remembered the ear piece headset, snorted at Castle over the line as she sat down. "This better be a secure channel, Agent Castle."

"It is. And private, Agent Beckett. Just you and me, baby. In case I need to say something to you that no one else should hear."

"You do a lot of that," she murmured. She called up her work station and messaged the team on the cell phone triangulation. "Are you in Memphis?"

"Still in the air. Touchdown in twenty-three minutes. I need to know how much time you think we have before Threkeld-"

"Breaks? Average untrained civilian takes 24 to 48 hours to break completely. Threkeld would hold out because the work is classified and because he's got personal relationships with us, so I'd push the 24 a little, but not much. He's not fit for torture, Castle."

"We've already wasted nine," her husband sighed. "Six before we knew he was even missing."

"Which means we have eighteen to go," she pointed out.

"Fuck," he said quietly. "Eighteen hours and travel time is killing us. Kate, this is..."

"Why are you making me the optimistic one?" she grumbled.

He laughed back at her. "Point taken, baby. Okay. You're right. We got this. Eighteen hours. We're ahead of the curve because we know who it is. We know it's the Collective. We just have to figure out _where_ they've taken him."

Before it was too late.

It might already be too late.


	7. Chapter 7

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

_previously on Spy..._

_Kat__e called up her work station and messaged the team on the cell phone triangulation. "Are you in Memphis?"_

_"Still in the air," Castle answered over the comm. "Touchdown in twenty-three minutes. I need to know how much time you think we have before Threkeld-"_

_"Breaks? Average untrained civilian takes 24 to 48 hours to break completely. Threkeld would hold out because the work is classified and because he's got personal relationships with us, so I'd push the 24 a little, but not much. He's not fit for torture, Castle."_

_"We've already wasted nine," her husband sighed. "Six before we knew he was even missing."_

_"Which means we have eighteen to go," she pointed out._

_"Fuck," he said quietly. "Eighteen hours and travel time is killing us. Kate, this is..."_

_"Why are you making me the optimistic one?" she grumbled._

_He laughed back at her. "Point taken, baby. Okay. You're right. We got this. Eighteen hours. We're ahead of the curve because we know who it is. We know it's the Collective. We just have to figure out where they've taken him."_

_Before it was too late._

* * *

Mason frowned and stopped in his tracks, his his head swiveling to survey the destruction in the room.

Castle snorted at him but he stepped carefully over the threshold of Dr Threkeld's study and headed for the desk. The drawers were pulled out, papers dumped, frames smashed, books yanked off shelves and the pages ripped out. Castle surveyed the wreckage and then began to slowly pick through it.

"Don't touch that."

Castle jerked upright, pressed his hand to his ear. "Uh. Is this Hosad?"

"Yes, sir. Agent Beckett wanted me to walk you through it. Ignore the items tossed on the floor. Please head to the bookcase."

Castle grunted and moved towards the bookcase, wishing instead it was Beckett on the other end. She must be dealing with Logan and Dr Boyd's arrival. "Hey, Omkar. Did Boyd and Logan get in okay?"

"Yes, sir. Agent Beckett is down with them right now, processing them in as visitors."

"Good. Okay. What do I do now?"

"It's possible Dr Threkeld had a wall safe installed. I've discovered what I think is a money trail for one, though he was smart. All cash."

And yet Omkar had found it. Very nice. "Good job, Hosad. Wall safe, all right."

He glanced across the room and saw Mason rifling through drawers at a writer's desk, a smaller piece of furniture that looked mostly decorative. Castle turned his attention to the bookcase and began inspecting shelves, wondering where a man like Threkeld would hide things.

His wife had allowed Mason and Castle inside, but her arms had been held tightly at her sides, her face an anxious crease. Castle had been uncomfortable with her barely-controlled hysteria, with the way she hovered; it reminded him too poignantly of Kate. Not that she would be the same, not that they looked alike at all. Just that Kate often - too often - found herself in Mrs. Threkeld's position. Kate had once been to Castle's _funeral_, for goodness sake.

He kept doing that to her. He couldn't anymore; he just couldn't. Not only because of the baby, but because of her. Because Kate deserved better from this life of theirs.

His finger skimmed the edges of the shelves and down the insides, and then he dropped onto his haunches and worked the very bottom.

He hit a switch, some kind of mechanism at least, and he grinned. "Omkar, you there?"

"I'm here. Waiting on you."

"Think I found it."

"Well. Open it."

Castle chuckled to himself and worked his fingers along the catch until he realized it was a kind of rocker switch. After a click, the bottom shelf popped up like it had been magnetized. Since the books had been yanked off the shelf already, all he had to do was lift it.

A safe was nestled in the bottom, set into the base of the bookcase and dug down into the floor. He twirled the dial experimentally, studied the construction of the safe. He could do delicate and safe-cracking, or he could get Mason to bring in the dynamite and risk ruining what was inside.

Shit. He maybe _should_ ruin what was inside. It was probably about the regimen, and Castle couldn't have that getting out. But what if it was something Threkeld needed, what if it was data collected for personal projects? He should probably treat it carefully; the secrets it held might be valuable.

"How you want to handle that?" Mason said, coming up behind him.

What if it held secrets about his _son_?

"Let's blow it."

"You sure? If there's paperwork in there, it'll go up."

"Not if you shape the charges like the professional I know you are," Castle said, slapping Mason on the back.

"Asshole. You know that's nearly impossible."

"Nothing's impossible if you're good."

Mason scowled at him, but Castle stepped out of the room to grab their gear from the rental truck. As he passed through the front door, he saw Mrs Threkeld standing there.

"Are you... you're not really from the FBI, are you?"

"No, ma'am," he said. "We're much better than that."

Her shoulders dropped but it was some measure of relief on her face. Her fingers came to her neck and she nodded slowly. "You know my Gerald. You work with him."

Castle paused, turned back to her. "Ma'am. What has Gerald been telling you?"

"He has out of town conferences. Diseases - he loves diseases. Propagation of the microorganism. He talks about it constantly, non-stop. But these conferences lately. The last year or so. Nothing. Not a word. I knew it had to be for the government because he never told me a thing."

Castle released his breath. "That's good. That keeps you safe."

"He's working for the Department of Defense, isn't he?"

Better that than the truth. "I can neither confirm nor deny any speculation on your part, ma'am."

She nodded to herself. "You know him. You know he's not cut out for... whatever it is they'd do to him."

Castle reached out and took her hand; this woman reminded him of his mother, suddenly, that brittleness around the eyes. Kate had never looked at him like that, not even when he'd gotten sick, when he'd been dying right in front of her. But Martha had it.

"Ma'am," he said quietly. "I know him. And I am doing everything in my considerable power."

She clutched at her throat again, but the fragility seemed to disappear. "Thank you, sir."

He left her there to get the directional charges from the truck.

* * *

"Oh, Kate, look at you! Congratulations!" Dr Boyd came to her in the lobby after passing through security, holding both arms out and giving her a hug. "I didn't know you were pregnant!"

Logan gave her a look and Kate rolled her eyes. "Dr Boyd," she murmured as he hugged her again. "You are the worst actor."

Boyd pulled back and glanced around. "Is it too much?" he whispered.

Logan chuckled and shifted ahead of Boyd to wrangle Kate into an embrace. He kissed her cheek with a little more familiarity than anyone else might dare, but Logan had always had fun taking liberties. Especially when Castle was around.

"Where's your husband?" he asked.

"You _were _trying to provoke him," she muttered. "He's out. In the field. Where's your wife?"

"Safe," Logan said with a frown. "She's with relatives. Any word?"

"Not sure. Castle is in Memphis, looking at the scene."

"Good," Boyd said. "Dr Threkeld is an estimable colleague. I do not believe he would... last long. He's got a stubbornness about him that would only get him in trouble, Kate."

"I know," she said softly, glancing at him now. "We're working on it. Please come with me and I'll show you to rooms."

"Is there a lab? I have work to do," Boyd said.

Work? No. No, definitely not - not here. Kate cast a quick look towards the lobby security but they were out of range. "Not... the regimen, right? Dr Boyd, you can't do that here."

"No? But it's the very heart of the CIA."

"No," she said firmly. "Did you bring your notes with you?"

Boyd held up his laptop case. She closed her eyes and rubbed her hand down her face. "Shit. Okay. I'm... I'll get those secured, Dr Boyd. You really can't - not here. No one can know about this. Logan, please tell me you didn't bring-"

Logan grimaced. "What did you expect, Kate? We can't leave it at Stone Farm when Ragle isn't even on the premises. Some of it had to remain behind but we took what we could."

Ragle wasn't on the premises because he was leading the search team from that end. The Collective had drawn them all out, hadn't they? Was this a set-up? Did they already know about Stone Farm?

If they knew about Stone Farm, they'd know about Castle soon enough.

And herself. Shit. Once they had her records, they knew about the baby too. If they got those records, they'd have everything.

Kate jerked her phone out of her pocket and gestured for Boyd and Logan to enter the elevator. When Ryan answered, she rushed into her explanation before he could even speak. "I need you to compartmentalize Stone Farm on its own network. Ryan, can you do that?"

"Holy... are you kidding me?"

"No, no, I'm not," she said tightly, punching the button for the residence hall. "Stone Farm is currently being manned by what amounts to the B-string team. Ragle has taken his best men off campus to search for Threkeld."

"But security is done by Special Forces. Come on, Beckett."

"Ryan," she hissed. "You _know_ what records are on that network. You need to do this."

"Beckett, I would if I could. I don't have - I mean, Malone could have done it. He could have. But I don't have those skills. I'd have to get outside help."

"Shit," she moaned. "I can't - if they take over Stone Farm, we are dead. We are worse than dead, Ryan-"

"They?"

Kate froze; even Logan was looking at her shrewdly in the elevator. She forgot how much Logan didn't know, forgot how much she and Castle had kept away from everyone.

Everyone.

All these lies. They hadn't told anyone about Black, about how they had contact with him, about the connection to the Collective.

They had to start telling people the damn truth. It was the only way. "It's about the regimen, Ry. It's not John Black going after Threkeld, going after that information."

"I knew it couldn't be, but who is they? You sound like you know exactly who it is."

"Ryan, can you please find a way to do this? If you can't compartmentalize Stone Farm and take it off the main CIA network, then-"

"Okay," Ryan said quietly. "Okay, Beckett, I - I'll do what I can. Look, if you're worried about this force overrunning the Stone Farm campus, I can kick every single person off the system. No one gets in."

"And if they hack it?"

"If they hack it, it won't matter if it's compartmentalized."

Kate pressed her lips together. "Okay. Do... what you can."

She was going to have to send a team to Stone Farm. She wanted to send Mason - not Castle, not Castle when they were looking for him anyway. She needed to send a security team to reinforce Stone Farm, and yet they also couldn't afford to divert their focus from the search for Threkeld.

She hung up and chewed on her bottom lip.

The elevator came to a stop far below the lobby and Kate led the two men off and into the dimly-lit hallway. It was supposed to be mostly empty for Sunday's roster, and the rooms were bare. She showed Boyd to his room first and then nodded for Logan to enter his room ahead of her.

She could tell he didn't like being slotted away, but he was willing to go along with it.

"Don't get on the network," she told him. "You're going to be kicked off anyway, but don't use the guest log in either. I'll tell Boyd on my way back. But Logan... you can't mention John Black in this place. You can't breathe a word."

Logan crossed his arms over his chest. "Because you're still in contact," he said quietly. "Castle told me. He's worried about what it means for you when it's discovered, your treason."

"If," she said weakly. Fuck. Treason. It was treason.

"When."

"He emails me," she admitted. "We... he has information about the regimen. Sometimes he'll supply me intel that I didn't even know we needed, that I had no idea we were missing. I pass it along to you and Boyd."

"I'd wondered, so I asked Castle a few weeks ago and he told me. He's worried sick about you, you know."

She pressed her hand to her stomach and nodded. "I know. We're - working on it."

"So are we," Logan said softly. "But I understand. I'll warn Boyd as well. He can get absent-minded at times. I'll tell him about the network too. Sounds like you have a lot on your plate."

"If they take over Stone Farm, all that information - it's all about Castle," she whispered. "They don't know it's him. They have no idea."

"Kate."

She angled her gaze back to him, anxiety tearing a hole in her chest.

"Kate, who is they?"

She rubbed her forehead, closed her eyes. She didn't know if she should be telling them this, but Castle had already confessed to Logan that Black was in contact. And that fact only made sense in the light of the rest of it.

"The group that funded Black's program after the government shut down MK-ULTRA - that group calls themselves the Collective. They want the casework and notes from the program, they want Black. The team that Spade set up with the Secret Service? Castle and I believe they're really controlled by the Collective, and it's possible that even Bracken was involved in them peripherally."

"That's why you let Castle join the team to hunt down Black," Logan said softly, whistling. "Damn, Kate."

She nodded. "The Collective don't know that the end result of the program wasn't, actually, a program, a serum. But a man."

"And now a baby," Logan finished. He scrubbed his hand through his spiky hair and shook his head. "Now a baby. Kate, we've... all of it is on the servers at Stone Farm. All of it. It's not hard to put together that we're dealing with a pregnancy - the fucking mice are all pregnant, Kate. Just _that _alone would tell them that it's generational."

"I know," she whispered.

She had to call Castle. They had to send a team to Stone Farm.

* * *

They'd blown the safe and only destroyed partial notes and a flashdrive, but Castle pocketed all of it. If Mason noticed, he definitely didn't care; he was a good man in the field. Mitchell would have needled him until Castle had spilled enough details to appease the man, but Mason couldn't give a fuck. He just did his job.

It also meant this was all on Castle, no matter what happened later. Mason couldn't be held responsible for whatever they had to do; he eschewed responsibility.

Castle had sent the Special Forces security team with them to Threkeld's hospital to interview staff, using them like detectives rather than security. It didn't do any good to waste the manpower on standing around watching Castle pocket evidence, plus they had to do their due diligence. The team reported in from time to time, the alerts on his phone, but they'd found nothing out of the ordinary. Threkeld's office at the hospital was clean.

Ryan had dialed into his comm after they'd blown the safe and finally given them coordinates for the cell phone. The team that had been triangulating the signal had discovered it about thirty miles from Threkeld's house, west towards the city. And presumably along the route Threkeld would have taken to the airport.

As he and Mason got back in the truck, Ryan said something about Boyd and Logan being secure, but that they'd brought their laptops with access to everything - all the information.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Esposito has taken custody of both," Ryan assured him. "He's got you covered."

"Thanks," Castle sighed, gunning the engine to move through traffic. "Have any of the other teams gotten to the site?"

"Not yet. You're closest."

"All right," he said easily. "Let you know when we get there."

He kept the line open, like Beckett had made him promise to do, but right away, Mason started in on him.

"You wanna tell me what the fuck we're doing?" he said quietly.

"Mase."

"Naw, man. I got a fucking wife. Usually, shit, I'm the laidback fucker you want. Not today. Not on this. Because you blew that safe to smithereens and I _know_ I placed those charges better than that. And you palmed-"

"Fucking shut up," Castle said tightly. He tapped his earpiece and Mason narrowed his eyes but he shut his mouth.

Castle worked his jaw, chewing on how best to tell Mason, what to tell him. He wasn't Mitchell; he didn't know what had happened. And the man had a wife. Marin didn't deserve the shitstorm that would rain down if the Collective ever got close enough.

Fuck. He and Kate - it wasn't just about them. There were all these people now, this extended family that Kate had built around them without him even realizing it. They'd made noise about not having any secrets, about giving their office the impression of complete transparency, but keeping their inner circle the only ones in the know.

But the truth was - the truth was that _no one_ was in the know. Logan knew pieces. Espo and Ryan knew another piece. Mitchell knew a larger chunk but not the stuff about the baby needing a little extra help. Everyone inside their inner circle was left holding what they thought was a complete picture but they didn't know.

It was time to let them all know; they had to. He and Kate needed more than just each other when it came to keeping their family safe. Because it wasn't just each other in their family - it was the baby, but it was also Mitch and his reporter, it was Marin and Mason, it was Espo and even Lanie, it was - fucking hell - it was Ryan and Jenny and Sarah Grace, a newborn who needed her father.

Castle cut the comm even though he'd promised her not to, and he ripped it out of his ear. "Mason. My father put me in a program when I was five years old designed to alter my DNA. It worked. I'm fucking super."

"I'd heard that."

Oh, really? Shit. That was rumor going around then.

"And now my kid - he is too," Castle said, keeping it simple. "Only it's not so easy to maintain."

"Aw, fuck, man. Fuck. All that shit you had to do, and when you were sick? And Threkeld, fucking hell. He knows, doesn't he? He knows the kid is super."

"Yeah."

"Fuck. _Fuck_."

"You don't have to help. But the group that's taken the doc - they're looking for me. They don't know _what_ they're looking for, or that it's a who and not a what, but if they break Threkeld, they'll know."

"And the kid. And Beckett - she's part of this too."

"Yeah."

"Fucking fuck, Castle."

He swallowed. "I gotta turn the comm back on or Beckett will castrate me. So we can't talk about it any more."

"Yeah," Mason said, his elbow propped on the door of the truck, rubbing his chin as he stared out at the rolling green, the thick cluster of trees off the interstate.

"You with me, Mase?"

Mason turned sharply to him. "Fucking hell, you need to ask?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I do, Mason. You have a wife."

"Which is why," Mason replied, and all of the country boy dropped right out of him. Castle had always wondered if it was simply a persona he'd adopted to throw people. Looked like it was. Country boy wasn't Mason. No wonder Marin, exotic and reserved, European and intelligent, had fallen in love with Mason. The man wasn't at all what he seemed.

Castle turned his comm back on and checked their GPS. "Fuck, we're right on top of it," he swore, pulling off the interstate faster than he should have.

Mason craned his neck, glancing at the nothing surrounding them, and then caught Castle's gaze. "Not good."

Castle glanced around himself, noting the deep embankment off the the side of the interstate, the massive trees hugging close to that ditch. "Not good," he echoed, and he opened up the driver's side door.

He and Mason moved around the truck and towards that embankment. The closer they got, the more it looked like a ravine and not just a ditch. When it rained, it probably filled with a swift-moving current.

As it was, there was no water in the bottom. Only the blackened hull of a Mercedes.

"That's Threkeld's car, ain't it?" Mason said.

"Fuck."

"Castle?"

Kate was calling; he clicked over and winced. "Baby, bad news. We found the cell's last location."

"Nothing there?"

"Something's here, alright. It's Threkeld's car. Burned down to the metal."

"Castle," she said.

He heard it then, the tightness in her voice. "What's wrong?"

"We need to send your Special Forces team with Mason to Stone Farm."

* * *

Mason took the rental and headed back into Memphis and the airport, leaving Castle on the side of the road.

He salvaged the wreck of the Mercedes as best he could, but there was nothing. Not even skid marks on the road to indicate he'd gone off, so it was possible it was staged to divert attention. Castle needed to find something that proved it, one way or another. If Threkeld had been in this car, then he'd been taken here. If he hadn't, he could already be gone.

Castle had maybe thirty more minutes before the local agency showed up with a new car for him, so he had to make quick work of his investigation. He got down on his belly and crawled partially under the carriage of the car, looking for residue, blasting radii, anything out of the ordinary.

The metal was blackened, the drive shaft looked warped, but he didn't know if that was a natural result of the fire or something else. He turned on his phone's flashlight and the beam caught a twist of black that looked partially melted into the front axle. Castle pulled the sleeve of his full-body flak jacket down over his fingers, picked at the twisted hunk until it fell loose onto his vest.

It smelled like electrical tape. Castle reached up again and rubbed at the blackened part of the axle, then traced a line to the shock absorbers that were mounted to the right front tire.

Huh.

Right there.

To confirm his suspicions, Castle wriggled out from under the car and used the tire iron from the trunk to pry off the seat cushions, checking under the leather for the wiring attached to the seat warmers.

Yeah, shit. Just as he'd thought.

He cleared his throat. "Kate?"

Her voice came over the open comm. "I'm here. How soon until you leave and head back?"

"Car should be here in twenty. But Kate. The Mercedes has been tampered with."

"Brakes?"

"No. Seat warmer was wired to a directional charge just below the shock absorber on the front passenger side." He winced and got out of the car, back into the broiling heat. "I found where they'd taped it, remains of the wires."

"For what purpose? How big a charge?"

"Small charge. Very small. Little residue at all. Which means the fire was set after they pushed it off the road."

"Ah."

He chuckled and stepped away from the ruined Mercedes, heading for higher ground. The sun was baking the asphalt and sending waves of hot air over him. "Ah is right. The charge was, I'm guessing, to make him think he'd gotten a flat, pull over, and get out of the car."

"Ambush then. But that means they would have been at his house at some point to place the charge."

"Yes," he said tightly. "But I've gotten everything I can from his wife. She would have told me if she had seen people hanging around."

"But it's a good sign," she said. "They didn't run him off the road. They were careful with him. Directional charge to fake a flat tire means they want him alive."

"That was my thinking."

"I got word that Mason is in the air," she said then. "And you?"

"I'll head back to you as soon as I can," he answered. "Have Esposito work tactical from there and coordinate with Mason when he gets on the ground."

"Already doing it."

He rubbed the back of his neck, wondered if he was getting a sunburn. It was nearly three, and the heat was fierce, the full-body flak jacket stifling. He wouldn't take it off though; he'd promised her.

"Kate?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a deserted road. No traffic cams. Nobody saw it happen. We've got maybe a few bits of wire for forensics but we couldn't trace it in time."

"To save him," she murmured.

"To save us," he croaked out, closing his eyes. They knew who had Threkeld; they knew it was the Collective. But what good did it do them?

"Yeah," she sighed on the phone. "Castle... secure comm, right?"

Even just saying it out loud meant she was thinking the same thing as him. "Shit," he growled, kicking the ruined tire with his steel-toed boot. "This is not... not ideal, Kate."

"We have no other choice. He said he had a contact in the Collective."

"We just told all our people that we were transparent, that the Capture/Kill Order was valid and necessary. We just told them-"

"You did," she said.

"What?"

"You told them it was; you told them you were going to be completely honest and forthright. Not me."

Was _that_ why Beckett had bowed out of that presentation? Plausible deniability. "Shit-"

"He's already implicated me, Rick. He sends me notes to remind me that I'm complicit."

"We both are," he growled.

"I'd never implicate you. It's his only leverage. If he goes down, so do I."

"Kate. You're not doing this."

"So what do I do, Castle? Tell me. Because we both know we're not going to find the Collective in time."

He'd already been thinking it; it had been swimming around in his head for hours now.

_Call his father._

For Kate to be the one, it twisted his guts.

But it had to be her. Castle was in charge of the whole Eastern European department and while she was his second-in-command and he had her back, she didn't need to have the people under him trust her like that. She could remain ambiguously proficient. Ambiguous, walking in the shadows, the shades of grey.

"But you're the one who made me into this," he choked. "You were the one who demanded right and wrong and accountability and now you..."

"I know, love."

And she hated it. She did; he could hear it in her silence. She didn't want to be the one working in shadows and employing deceit. She had never wanted it.

But they had no choice. Threkeld would break and when he did, their whole family was in jeopardy - himself, his wife, their son... their friends.

"Make contact," he told her. "Ask for - don't ask for help. Don't show him weakness. Ask for intel."

"He'd do it for you," she told him softly. "He'll do it to protect you."

Castle gritted his teeth and heard the car approaching on the road. Finally. "However you have to word it, Kate, that's what you do." He hiked up the embankment towards the overheated pavement and waited on the side for the car to slow.

"Castle, I love you."

He sighed. "I know. I know, Kate. When you get a location - if you get one from him - send it to me on my phone. I'll be on a military flight out of Memphis, so I can easily pull rank and redirect them."

The agency car slowed to a stop and Castle heard Kate's sigh in his ear even over the noise of the engine. But there was nothing else to go on - they were out of leads. They needed his father's help.


	8. Chapter 8

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

She didn't have long to wait.

Black replied to her email within moments, a terse two words: _On it._

Kate's heart pounded as she sent the email to the erasure program. On her side of things, Castle - via Ryan, of course - had set up the email account with a code-mask and an online shredder as well as the erasing program, but Black still had his originals, no doubt. They could only do so much to delete the data trail.

But she understood John Black. Quid pro quo; she had his son, he had information she needed to keep his son alive and able to do his job.

So long as she didn't fuck around with it too much, so long as she wasn't a millstone around Castle's neck in an excessive way, then they were on tenuous mutual ground.

And the baby.

God, it scared the shit out of her to think of what they'd done in Rome. The promises they'd made. Of course they had absolutely no intention of allowing James to become fodder for Black's program, no way in hell was that happening. But Black thought it would. And if he found out they'd been outright lying about it, if they didn't give him some kind of access to the baby, then she had no idea what happened next.

Kate buried her head in her hands and tried to stave off the panic attack waiting for her. It'd been since her arrest that she'd had a panic attack; she really didn't want to start that spiral again. Not when the baby depended on her.

When Castle depended on her.

Her email screen refreshed and the message was already there from Black.

That was fast. How had it been that easy for him?

She opened the email and let out a long breath as she read his intel, but already her blood was rushing in her veins and her head was crowded with logistics. She texted Castle: _We have a location. Austrian Embassy in DC. Redirect your flight; he says it will be soon._

Black had someone _seriously_ inside this Collective. No wonder he'd managed to stay several steps ahead for so damn long.

Well, it was all for his son. Of course he had someone inside the group that wanted Richard Castle. Anything for his son's protection. It had always been that way. Kate should stop being surprised.

She shredded the new email, logged off her work station, and then stood quickly, heading for the door. "Guys, keep on your tasks. I'm headed to meet Castle." She didn't say where. It would have to be just the two of them at first, since she couldn't come out and say where they'd gotten their intel from.

She had just gotten to the elevator when she heard running feet. She turned and Esposito was there, angry and dark, scowling at her. "I know you got something, Beckett. I can see it on your face."

"Espo-" she hesitated. He didn't know she was in contact with Black. No one knew; there was a capture/kill order out on Black. If her team knew, they were in the same boat as she was - treason. "Castle and I can handle it."

"No," Esposito growled. "Whatever it is, you're gonna need some fucking back-up. Both of you. Because you think he's gonna let you do _anything_ in the field?"

Pregnant. Fuck. "I-"

"I'm with you. And you might want to call Mitchell."

Mitchell. Oh, thank goodness for Esposito - he was right. Mitchell would help.

It wasn't just about her and Castle any longer. She had to remember that. She _had_ to remember it.

For James's sake, for Castle's, for their friends and family.

She had learned her lesson in Tunisia. _There is always a better way, Kate._

* * *

When Castle jogged off the tarmac and into the hangar, there was a military SUV waiting for him.

Kate and Esposito were inside.

It brought him up short, just a heartbeat's stuttered denial, and then he opened the back door and got in, furious with her. "What the hell are you doing here? You're not supposed to be in the field."

Kate ignored him, putting the car in gear and pulling out of the hangar; the backs of Esposito's ears were pink, as they fucking should be.

"Esposito," he said.

"Mitchell is meeting us on site," Kate interrupted. "We have no time for you to be pissed at me. It's minimally invasive, Castle, and it's mostly recon at this point. We have to move fast - we're running out of time."

He let out a breath. He didn't want her anywhere near the Collective, but vice versa, she didn't want him near them either, since it was him they were looking for.

Compromise was sour, but he'd gotten used to the taste.

"Mitch is good," he said, a reluctant approval. "Where are we on intel?"

"We have blueprints," Esposito cut in. "We have electrical engineering schematics. We got nothing on security or computers."

"Nothing?" he groused.

"Which is where we come in," Kate said quickly. She was sitting in the driver's seat right in front of him and he could see the beautiful slope of her neck where her hair was caught in a bun. He lifted a hand to the back of the seat and rested it there, letting his fingers touch her skin.

She jumped, but the car stayed steady. They were heading off base and towards DC, taking the HOV interstates and making good time.

"Where exactly do _we_ come in?" he said carefully. He didn't want her in at all.

"Austrian embassy is hosting a black tie event at six this evening - an art thing. You and I will-"

"No." His fingers dug into her skin at her neck and he had to withdraw his hand to keep from bruising her. "You're not going in there."

"We have to get inside to get access to their network, cameras, security. We need eyes in there. It's just a party, Castle, nothing crazy."

He rubbed both hands down his face. "No, I don't..."

"I've already got an invitation," she told him.

"What? How?"

"I'm famous, sweetheart, remember?"

For the thing with the senator. Their cover. Shit. Shit, he didn't like this. "But that means publicity. Journalists, photographers."

"Most likely."

"You're pregnant."

"Most likely."

He snorted, couldn't help it, but she had a point. She was pregnant, and this was a good chance to reinforce their cover IDs as a couple working to reform Congress and the Hill. That had been Mitchell's idea; Richard Rodgers had quit his accounting job to focus on his new non-profit lobbying group after his wife had nearly been railroaded. They were supposed to be attending functions to promote their cover, but these last few weeks, he'd been unwilling to take her out, expose their family.

"Castle?" she said. That she was asking at all gave him some measure of relief.

"Well," he said finally. "It's solid."

"We get inside, do recon first, have Mitchell be our tech support on the security. We do it smart. Espo can drive us, our helpful manservant, and if we find Threkeld that fast, then Espo can help us with an extraction. We'll walk him right out the front doors, dressed like a guest."

"Makes sense," Esposito added, completely unhelpfully. "I wait just outside, I'll be on the property as back-up. And if it's more complicated, you two can let me in a side door."

A side door? Right. It made some sense but he didn't want her there. He didn't want her in that ballroom where a couple yards away a man was being tortured for their identities.

But if they didn't do this, they were all dead.

"Rick."

"I don't like it," he said finally. "But you got a little black dress that fits, Beckett?"

"I actually do."

* * *

Kate shimmied into the tight lace thong, and she caught Castle shifting her looks as he buttoned his shirt. They were cramped together in the only room inside the walk-up apartment they'd commandeered on short notice. It wasn't exactly across the street from the embassy, but it was close enough to get eyes on the perimeter.

Esposito was doing surveillance for them, a little recon on the place while they got dressed. Kate was having trouble focusing on the mission when Castle kept looking at her like that.

A broad hand skimmed her bare back and his finger curled under the lace. Kate laughed breathlessly and sidestepped Castle's seeking touch, throwing a look at him over her shoulder. He wasn't trying all that hard though; she knew he just liked to touch.

"You look good," she told him. "Handsome."

"Only handsome?"

"Ruggedly, dashingly handsome," she modified, hooking her strapless bra in the front. Already her breasts were fuller, and the cups pulled tight, the underwire digging into her ribs. The dress was going to be an interesting fit.

"Well, you look sexy as hell and you haven't even put the dress on," he said, offering her a wide leer. "Is it maternity?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Yes. Had to. I seriously don't know where this came from," she said, brushing her fingers over the bump.

"Where?" Castle said slowly. "I thought you knew. I mean, since you're so proficient at it. But see, when a woman and a man love each other _very_ much-"

She laughed and punched his shoulder, hard enough to sting her knuckles. "Just for that, _you_ get to tell James about the birds and the bees."

He grinned a little wider and then eyed her, head to toe. "It's kinda hot to have a pregnant lady beat me up in only her underwear."

"Seriously?" she muttered, rolling her eyes. "Hand me the garment bag. We have twenty minutes before the art auction starts."

Castle reached for the garment bag hanging over the back of the closet door, but he unzipped it and parted the sides to reveal the black and tan dress. The under-layer was a sun-kissed flesh tone that set off the exotic black lace of the dress.

He whistled softly. "Damn, Kate."

She set her jaw and pressed her lips together to keep from grinning; there was no time for preening right now - or anything fun, either, too bad. She reached for the dress but he shook his head, fingers skimming over the lace.

"Let me help," he told her. "Zipper?"

"In the side, under the arm - but only so that I can pull it on over my head, Castle."

"Ah, the slit," he grinned, finding the tab and pulling the zipper open. It gave the bodice room for her to get her shoulders through without having to try to pull it on over the bump.

"Castle, stop fingering the dress and hand it over."

"Dirty," he growled, flashing her a look.

She blushed. Fuck, he'd made her _blush._ It had to be hormones. "Just help me already, will you?"

"Arms up, Kate," he said, already gathering the material in his hands.

She gave in and lifted her arms,and Castle - damn him - his eyes caressed as he stalked towards her. His touch was erotic and sweet at the same time, dropping the silk underskirt over her head and helping her pull the dress down over her torso. She adjusted the strapless, tight bodice against her breasts while Castle smoothed his hands over her hips, 'fixing' the lay of the skirt.

"All right," she said, a little breathless. "I'm in it. Stop. Shit."

He chuckled into her ear and touched his mouth to her jaw. "Baby, you look drop-dead gorgeous."

There wasn't a mirror in here to check, but for that she was grateful; she didn't want to see it again. She'd bought it off the rack in the five minutes they'd had to grab necessities for the mission, and she'd seen it in the dressing room. The bump was unmistakeable. The maternity dress showed off the stretch of her belly with a dark Spanish lace, and while, yes, she looked hot in it, it was still disconcerting to see herself so obviously pregnant. No longer hiding it.

"Oh," Castle said softly, turning away from her. She watched bewildered as he opened the door and left the room, but he came back with something in his fist. "I had these one me. Have had them on me."

"What?" She leaned forward and he opened his hand; there on his palm were the cufflinks she'd bought him. "You keep them on you?"

"Yeah," he said. She lifted her eyes and saw he was a little sheepish, her big bad super spy. She hid her amusement and took the cufflinks from him, nodded to his still unbuttoned sleeves.

Castle stretched his arms out in the shirt as if trying to get a good fit, rolled his head on his neck, fiddled with the collar before he finally left his arms at his side, his palms out to her in surrender. Kate stepped into the radius of his warmth and snagged the flapping sleeve of his tux shirt; Castle stood quietly, their bodies electric and aware.

She pinched the cuff between her thumb and forefinger, pleasantly surprised at how far they'd come. As if the learned rhythm of dressing side by side was somehow a better indication of their progress as husband and wife than the pregnancy was.

She knew how to dress his cufflinks and when to knot his tie, and he knew how to close her bra and when to tug her skirt into place. In that way, they gave each other confidence and reassurance, side by side, back to back. Partners.

Castle's fingers curled up and brushed the side of her hand while she flipped the bar down on the back of the cufflink to secure it. The lines of the wolf in the silver looked nearly black in this light, and her heart was beating fast at his nearness and how she felt in this dress.

She shifted and took his other wrist with her fingers, pushed the cufflink through the holes. The fingers of Castle's free hand trailed up her arm to her elbow, tickling, brushing, and then up to her neck, slowly pulling her hair down from its hasty bun.

Kate ignored him, pushed down the bar on his cufflink, and then took both of his hands with hers, drawing his wandering fingers away from her neck where her skin was burning for him. She held on and he brought their joined hands to her hips, pulling her slowly against him.

Castle was still in only his dress pants and white tux shirt, the black pearl buttons shining. He looked damn sexy, and delicious, and she really wished they weren't on the clock here.

"Threkeld," she said quickly.

But he kissed her, rough and expressive, taking promises from her mouth with the surge of his anger. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, holding him to her. He didn't want her to be there and she knew it.

She was only going to be doing recon.

* * *

Esposito stopped the limo at the front circle in a line of similar vehicles; each guest handed out was more elegant than the last. Castle felt her shifting on the seat beside him, getting a good look at the place, but he double-checked his phone just to be sure.

They'd come up with a plan, should they find Threkeld, and while Kate wasn't happy with sitting on the sidelines, Castle hadn't been about to walk inside that place with her unless she'd agreed to his ground rules.

"Esposito-"

"I got it; I know what to do."

Castle nodded, glanced to his wife. She was beautiful, of course, but her beauty had never been in question. Her tenacity, her loyalty, her passion - those things kept surprising him. He didn't know why - he'd been in Tunisia and seen her commitment - but the things she'd do for them, what she was willing to tackle, how she attacked their life and held on to it so fiercely, that ferocious part of her still rocked him on his heels.

Castle eyed the embassy, assessing it with a skillful eye.

"Babe."

He came to attention, saw her amused little smile, and he shook his head. The limo had pulled up to the front and an attendant was opening the back door. Kate squeezed his knee and allowed the man to hand her out.

He followed her, standing tall on the pavement, straightening his tux jacket before reaching for Kate.

They walked up the long white carpet hand in hand, fingers tangled together and pulling, tugging nearly apart, coming together again. Sometimes Castle was ahead of her, sometimes he was behind, but they had the forgiving grace of two people who'd been together for a long time.

How long had it really been? It seemed a lifetime and no time at all.

Kate presented the red and silver invitation to the guard at the front gate. They were in a long line of guests being checked and cross-checked, wanded through security, nicely in the middle of the group. The guard kept the invitation and made a crisp checkmark beside each of their names on his clipboard, and then they were waved forward.

The embassy was an imposing white edifice comprised of 52,000 square feet on a little over an acre of land just off 36th Street in northwest Washington DC. It was several stories, though the ground windows vaulted to three times the height of the first floor.

The line wound up the circle drive towards the thrown-open front doors, and Castle could see inside to the vast foyer. A 5,000 square-foot central atrium was domed by a massive skylight, the offices and business sections of the building squaring off the structure along the radius, closed to guests. Tonight the skylight was glittering as if the stars themselves had been trapped inside.

Kate pulled him by the hand, her black silk clutch under her other arm, the strangely erotic curve of her belly interrupted by the line of her hand hovering, protective.

Or perhaps she was merely playing up the cover, drawing attention to herself as the least likely suspect. Castle had learned his lesson in Versailles and again in Rome; the best way not to attract attention as spies was to attract attention. Kate couldn't help it; her natural beauty and confidence, her command and grace caught everyone's eye, no matter where they went. Best to set themselves up as their own diversion.

The security team just inside the double doors - four sets of them - required Kate to surrender her purse and for Castle to hold out his cufflinks for inspection. The shoes came off as well, and he stood in black dress socks with an arch of his eyebrow, not impressed whatsoever.

The embassy security was ridiculous; he could have easily brought his knife inside. The porcelain knife which would never set off the metal detector or the wands, the one he could have hidden easily up his sleeve in its strap harness. Too bad he hadn't.

Kate tsked at him while he slid back into his shoes; she knew him too well. "Be grateful it's so easy."

He sighed and followed her through the foyer and into the throng of art enthusiasts, the line moving inexorably towards the atrium and its starry wonder.

They were in.

* * *

Kate Beckett did not love small talk.

She did love her husband, and the baby, of course, and so she thought she should be able to make the transition into at least _liking_ to chat aimlessly about those subjects with all who asked, but it really was no good.

She was a woman of action - or at least movement - and standing in four-inch kitten heels with her pregnancy on display and every hand (male or female, didn't seem to matter) reaching out to touch her belly made her want to do damage.

A lot of damage.

But she was only allowed to do a little recon.

She pressed her lips together to keep from screaming and gave the couple before her an indulgent, patently false smile. If her hand seemed to twitch for a weapon, then really, they were all lucky that was all.

"Ah," Castle said indiscriminately. "My wife is signaling her need for the buffet. Eating for two, you know."

Escape! How she loved him.

He took her by the elbow and led her away from the entirely too enthusiastic Minister of Culture to the Italian Embassy and the Minister's young wife (perhaps mistress, hard to tell), but Kate could feel him laughing.

Even if he wasn't outright chuckling, he was laughing inside, and she hated him a little.

"Next time," she hissed, moving for the buffet anyway; she was eating for two. "Next time, mister, you get to be pregnant. Let them all touch you. Rub your belly like a fat little Buddha."

"You think I like having men touch you?"

She narrowed her eyes at him - like it was her fault they were touching - and he narrowed his eyes back.

But, oh, fuck, it was hot. He was hot. His possession and-

Okay, no. Concentrate. Stupid hormones.

"Find a place to secret these," she murmured, tapping her earring with a finger. The dangling hoops were jewel-encrusted and gaudier than she liked, but Esposito had picked them out to hide the mockingbirds.

Malone's invention. Thinking of him now pushed a spike into her heart, cleared out the haze of excitement and lust and hormones, gave her back her focus.

They had two of these mockingbirds - one hidden in each earring - which would coordinate with a third component back at the apartment where Mitchell and his guys would be doing tech support. Once they were up and running, they would theoretically pick up on the wireless network and piggyback on the bandwidth, mimicking the frequency - like a mockingbird - and allowing a worm inside the Austrian Embassy's system. From there, they would have backdoor access to the everything they needed.

Hopefully. Ryan hadn't been so sure about it working out in the field, especially because Malone had not yet gotten around to training Ry in that area before he'd been murdered. But it was similar to what they'd used before when Kate had been arrested, so she'd heard, and it had worked at the hotel where they'd used it. The embassy, of course, was going to be much more difficult to hack. It might not respond to the mockingbird's call.

"How long before Mitchell and tech support are in place?" Castle murmured suddenly. He was filling a plate with Austrian cultural food, and Kate's stomach rumbled. She couldn't remember if she'd had lunch.

"He should be ready by seven," she told him. Mitchell had flown in two members of his consulting team - Walker being one of them, and the former CIA analyst had looked ready to prove himself. It gave Kate hope, strangely enough.

They were skimpy on firepower. Necessarily so, because this was an embassy and just showing up here tonight could be considered a national embarrassment. But she didn't like not having easy access to weapons, especially since whatever Castle might encounter he'd be dealing with alone until they found a way to get Esposito inside the place.

"Kate."

She stopped scanning the crowd and turned back to Castle; his eyes were on something past her.

She moved to look but he caught her by the hip with a grimace. "It's our old friend, Hunt."

"Hunt who?" she said, coming up blank.

Castle gave her a dazzling grin and then planted a hot kiss on her lips. "_Hunt who. _That's my girl. The Scotland Yard-"

"Oh, _Ethan_." She hadn't meant to, but the way she said his first name made a dark cloud pass behind Castle's eyes. He was teasing, but he wasn't. She reached up and rubbed the dent in his chin where he had gotten scowly. "He's nothing to me, darling. It was only one night - one dance - and his hands barely wandered."

Castle sighed at her. "I hate you, you know."

She laughed, unable to help herself, and nudged him gently away. He made it fun - even in the middle of life or death, he made their life so good. "Find me a place to put these two calling birds, and then we'll take a tour."

She had an idea. Maybe they could use Hunt. Castle needed _someone_ on the inside watching his back. But first, they had to set up the mockingbirds for the hack.

"I think I know a place for one already," Castle said, nodding towards the far wall. Another reception room was off the main atrium, and it was there that the silent auction was being held. There were plenty of places to hide a little device that shouldn't be there, especially among the more post-modern media-rich sculptures.

"Hm," she mused. "We'll have to hide it on a piece that will stay in the embassy. Won't be sold, or else it might be removed."

"You're right, but that room is still ideal. So much activity already going on in there." Castle had finished filling his plate - it was mostly bratwurst and wiener schnitzel - but Kate's eyes had just caught the desserts.

"Oh, Linzer torte. Okay, I'm going to get a piece of that and waylay our Inspector Hunt while you find a place for the second bird." She slipped her fingers to her earring and pried the little, jewel-shaped device from it and then handed it over to Castle. "I'll do the first on my own. I know more about art than you."

"You should make Hunt do it," Castle grumbled at her. "He owes us one."

He did, but they both knew Hunt couldn't be trusted.

Kate leaned in and softly kissed her husband's cheek. "You're standing between your pregnant wife and cake. You might want to get a move on."

"Yes, ma'am," he whispered into her hair.

She couldn't suppress the shiver as she walked away from him.

* * *

"Tyrolean Folk Art," she murmured. Her smile was beautiful and it nearly eclipsed her words.

"What?" he said, staring at the sun of her face. The moon of her body. The-

"Rick," she said slowly. "Pay attention."

"That dress is just showing off," he muttered. "No one is supposed to look this good."

She didn't laugh, but she had a press to her lips that said she was amused with him. He'd spent the evening alternately hating Hunt for having his hand at Kate's elbow and being grateful he was far enough away from her to do his job effectively.

Never before had Kate Beckett so thoroughly distracted him.

Never before had Kate Beckett been pregnant with his son, marked indelibly as _his_. He shouldn't be so neanderthal, he shouldn't care that Hunt was a little awkward whenever he caught sight of her obvious condition, but he did, he was. He was that guy.

"Richard," she said sharply.

His eyes snapped up to her face, and he closed his mouth, straightened up. "Right. Yes. Kate. Will you please just take me by the hand and lead me to a corner somewhere and have your way with me? I think it would do wonders for clearing my head."

She laughed, and the richness of it caught him, broke the spell her body had weaved around him. That Spanish lace and the fullness of her breasts and the width of her hips-

"Are your hips wider?" he murmured, narrowing his eyes at her to study the lay of the land.

"Rick Castle," she hissed. "Listen to me. We don't have time for distractions. Did you plant the little birdie?"

"Yes. Did you?"

"I just told you. There are hand-carved wooden chairs on loan from the Tyrolean Museum of Popular Art. They're ornate and filled with nooks and crannies, so it was easy. They'll remain here."

He nodded and scrubbed a hand down his face, got himself together. She was dangerously exotic tonight, and it didn't help that they'd been running flat out since they'd returned from Italy, not much time for play. And yeah, doing things like this always got his blood racing, his body aware of her in a primal way; it was part of the heightened senses, the altered red blood cells of the regimen, and he knew it.

He just couldn't seem to get himself in control tonight.

The Collective was here. He had to remember that. He was keeping his son - and Kate - safe.

"Seriously," Kate muttered. "Why is it that when we're alone at home or walking the dog in the park, you're jumpy and on edge and paranoid, but the moment we enter an actual situation that calls for all those things, you're as happy as can be?"

He grimaced, but his grin was cracking through. "Yeah, baby, I'm pretty messed up. We already know that. It just feels safer. Nothing here is an unknown. My missions always succeed."

"Even Paris and getting locked in that refrigerated car?"

"Success. We're here, aren't we?"

She shook her head at him but she was smiling. She took his arm and led him towards the art auction, disarming him of the glass of wine to set it on a waiter's tray as they passed. "Place a low bid," she murmured. "If we win, even better. I want the Klimt."

"The _Klimt?_ Right."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Neither of us can afford that. I just quit my accounting job, remember?"

"Try anyway. It's gorgeous. It's flecked with silver and moonlight and it makes me happy."

"Seriously, Beckett, you're killing me," he muttered. But she took him around to the small, ornate painting, and it really was flecked with silver and moonlight, and her face was beaming.

It was titled, _The Wolf and the Hare._ He leaned in closer to check the certificate of authenticity. He chuckled and straightened up again, glancing at her.

"It's not Gustav Klimt," he said. "I can actually afford this."

She hummed, tilting her head towards him. "I know. But your face when I said it..."

No _wonder_ he wanted her so badly. He went ahead and leaned over the tablet that was in place before the painting. He entered a name and an amount and it was accepted.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. He had placed a bid as Thomas Crown. "Are you kidding? That's not funny."

"If we win, I'll have an agent collect it. They won't release the art tonight anyway."

"But _Thomas Crown_. Rick, come on."

"Shh," he hushed her. "It's funny. And you know the rule - leave no trace behind. Not even at an art auction."

She set her jaw but she stopped arguing with him. "How much longer you think?" Kate asked.

He knew she wasn't talking about the end of the silent auction.

"I'll go to the bathroom and find out," he promised.

She smiled at him again and he released her arm, nodded towards Hunt on the other side of the room. "Go take up with him for protection, sweetheart. I won't be a moment."

Once in the bathroom, he would contact Mitchell and see if they had a signal yet. When they did, they could begin to explore the place and find a way to get Espo inside. Then the two of them would go hunting for Threkeld, leaving Kate safely out of things.

That was the plan, at least.


	9. Chapter 9

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

Since she and Castle were the only two who had an invitation, Mitchell was back at the apartment they'd commandeered, running the technical side of things with Walker. They wouldn't have been able to smuggle earpieces past security, but Kate had her phone in the silk clutch, and Castle had his in his pocket, and that would have to do.

Kate had turned to Ethan Hunt as a screen while Castle prowled through the building, but the Scotland Yard inspector was growing curious. He'd been suspicious since they'd shown their faces here, but now he was making sly statements about their 'work' with the non-profit. It was bordering on non-professional.

Beckett slipped away, found the balcony doors that led to a kind of porch which ran along the back of the atrium. The night was muggy and close and Kate was already sweating when she checked her phone's alerts.

Mitchell was in place; they had the signal. She called him back and waited for him to answer.

"Beckett, nice to work with you again."

"You've got Walker with you, right?"

"Yes. Castle said to bring him."

"That's who we wanted," Kate reassured him. She stepped farther away from the light of the atrium, moving from yellow to black as night. She smelled honeysuckle, rich and heavy, just past the porch. "You should be good to start now."

"Already?"

"Yes. Rick's in position inside, so relay him warnings via text message. He has the video feed on his phone, so he should be able to see what you see, but he won't be able to study it like Walker can. You'll have to watch his back." Because she couldn't while she was inside that throng of people.

"We know; we got it covered," Mitchell said. "And you'll be where?"

Had Castle told him to not-so-subtly remind her? "I'm staying safe with the party," she muttered.

"Don't sound so glum, Becks. It's a party. Drink up. Oh. Wait. No _wonder_ you're glum."

She didn't laugh, but she wanted to - and that was good enough. "Message Castle," she told him. "I'll make 'our' exit in about an hour, once the auction closes."

"Got it. See you in an hour." Mitchell hung up and Kate replaced her phone in the silk clutch. She drew her hair off her neck and lifted it on top of her head, taking a breath.

"There you are."

She turned and saw Ethan silhouetted by the light spilling in around him from the French door. "It was getting too stuffy in there."

"I never did say congratulations," he told her, stepping out onto the porch. He had a champagne in one hand and he really was a handsome man. He wasn't her spy, but he could be someone's.

"You still haven't," she pointed out.

He chuckled. "Perhaps there's a reason for that."

She arched an eyebrow and stepped away from his approach, not a retreat, but a reminder. He paused at the railing and reached out into the darkness, suddenly pulled the thin flute of a honeysuckle blossom from the bush. He didn't offer it to her, simply dipped his head and sniffed the flower.

She suddenly didn't know him at all, or what he was doing here in the States, why the Austrian Embassy, and she had a very bad feeling.

"He called you," she rasped, stunned by how obvious it had been.

"He called me," Ethan said calmly.

Oh, God. Holy-

"He knows you two have a tendency to go in without back-up."

Kate's palms were sweating, the dress clinging to her in ways it shouldn't. She shifted on her feet, analyzing the angle of her escape.

"So where is he?" Ethan said.

She didn't know if she should say. She didn't entirely trust John Black even when it came to Castle. What if Black thought blowing their cover was the best way for him to regain his hold over his son?

"Come on, Katherine," Ethan chided softly. "I can't help him if I don't know."

"You can help me instead," she told him. "As you have been all night. Keep people from noticing he's gone. They all want to talk to me anyway, not him. He's just the accountant."

"Right." Ethan sipped his champagne and then dropped the honeysuckle into the bubbles. "You can't possibly hope to do an extraction at a party."

They had the clothes for it, the plan in place. Smuggle him upstairs (or downstairs, if Threkeld was being held above them) to the party, let him mingle, a bite of food, calm, keep calm, walk out the door with him and into the waiting arms of Esposito.

"What we hope is for peace on all sides," Kate answered finally. "And if your master isn't happy with that-"

"He's not my _master_," Ethan scoffed. "He said you needed help and I owe you one. You helped me at a similar function, Kate. I'm just helping you."

Still she kept her mouth shut; she couldn't trust anyone other than their inside circle.

Ethan sighed. "Fine. Be that way. But you're pregnant and you'll need someone to watch your back as well. Don't think the security here is lax."

"I do believe I'm well aware of my condition," she growled. "And as I said before, you can help me by making sure no one sees that my husband is missing."

Ethan fiddled with the glass of champagne for longer than she liked, but he finally held out the crook of his arm to her with a demure nod of his head.

Kate let out a breath and took his elbow, allowing him to escort her back to the party.

Just play up the diversion, keep all eyes on her, and let Castle do his job.

She really didn't like this turn of events at all.

* * *

Castle crept down the upstairs hallway, searching for a blind spot in the cameras. His phone gave him the video feed, and Mitchell and Walker were messaging him directions, but some things couldn't be done except by hand. In person.

The alert came up across the top of his screen: _Incoming, hallway. Door to your right is clear._

Castle jerked upright, scanned the dark hall behind him. He didn't see anyone, but he moved quickly and opened the door to his right, slid inside. He rotated through the security camera feeds until he could verify this room was off the grid, and he listened at the door for signs of life.

Whoever it was passed without Castle hearing a thing. He didn't like not knowing, but the security feed for the interior corridors was useless - that's why he'd been in the hallway to begin with. He'd have to wait for Walker to let him know.

Meanwhile, Castle let his eyes rove over the darkened room. The alarm grid was close-knit, but there had to be a place to get Espo inside. He wasn't doing an extraction with Beckett; he refused. So there _had_ to be a way to get Esposito inside this place.

_All clear. _

Castle cracked open the door and looked right and left down the hallway. Second floor wasn't ideal, but Esposito could scale the wall... but could Threkeld get down that way? If they found him - which Castle had yet to see signs of anything like that kind of operation.

Smuggling the doctor to the limousine had seemed like such a great idea earlier this afternoon.

Beckett messaged him and he sighed, rubbing at his forehead as he read. _I see a door. Security has gone through it four or five times._

Damn it, Beckett. _Stay there._

He called Mitchell, and the man answered immediately. "Hey. What's wrong?"

"Beckett is seeing activity downstairs. Did we not look at possible basement construction?"

"We did," Mitchell said assuredly. "We found nothing. Beckett messaged us about it too; I got no idea about what might be through that door. It's not on the blueprints, not on any building permits filed with the city."

"I'm gonna have to go down there. Do you see this door she's talking about on the video?"

"Not yet."

"Could be something," he admitted. But how to get through a door in full view of the party?

"You could have Beckett and Ethan cover you?" Mitchell offered.

"No. Hunt isn't... no."

"Well."

Impasse. "Let me finish this floor and if I still got nothing, I'll go back down."

"What do I say when Beckett messages me about this again?" Mitchell said. No sarcasm in his voice, because they both knew Kate would.

"Tell her you're looking through the blueprints again."

"Put her off like that?"

"No," Castle said quietly, slipping into the hallway again. "You really are going to look at the blueprints again. If Beckett says there's activity down there, then something's past that door. You need to find it."

Mitchell groaned. "Why couldn't you get me a damn invitation? I hate this sitting on my ass stuff."

"You and Espo both."

Castle ended the call and went back to the video feed, checking his way. Five more offices on this floor, and then he'd go down to the party.

* * *

"No, we've had to move," Kate offered. The woman waved her glass of wine as if she knew everything about it, the whole sob story, and gave Kate a sympathetic frown.

"Oh, dear. That's just awful." Obviously, the woman was fascinated, not horrified. "And I heard your husband was forced to resign?"

"No, no," Kate sighed. She hated small talk. She really hated it, especially without alcohol. _See what I do for you, baby?_ "He left his job so we could focus on our non-profit. You might have heard-"

"Oh, yes. That's really such a noble endeavor," the woman said. She was a little tipsy, enough to ask private questions, and Kate was answering because standing here meant she kept both Ethan Hunt in view and also that massive, steel-reinforced door.

"It's not so noble when it happens to you," Kate said, giving the woman a tight-lipped smile. Their cover actually coincided quite well with Kate's own convictions; she was grateful for that. "The ethics violations in Congress and the Senate - it's rampant. It's not enough that we have campaign contribution rules, there are also things like gerrymandering, pork barrel legislation..."

Just when Kate had run out of buzzwords, the woman clasped Kate's wrist and came in close. "Oh, dear, surely... I mean, weren't you a cop? Isn't that what you were doing? Why do you need a lobbying group?"

"Well, yes. I was - ah, an undercover officer. But can't really do that now, can I?"

The woman's eyes flicked down to Kate's stomach, but that hadn't been what Kate meant. She pressed her palm to the Spanish lace stretched across her belly and shook her head.

"Now that everyone knows my face, it makes it quite difficult to be undercover."

"Oh, wow. Yes. I hadn't thought of that. You are quite infamous, dear."

Kate smiled tightly and wished again for a glass of red. The red always made it easier to find pleasure in messing with people's heads. Right now, she was just feeling harried.

Ethan Hunt approached, offering her his arm and a way out. She took it, exchanging one difficult encounter for another, and gave her apologies to the wife of the senator she probably had greatly offended.

"Having a good time?" Ethan murmured close at her ear. He plucked a glass of something bubbly from a waiter and offered it to her. "At least take a sip."

Kate took the flute but ignored Ethan's directive, handed it off to another tray as they passed. With all the supplements she was taking, she couldn't be sure. Castle had been heavily encouraged not to drink when he'd been on the program, and while Black hadn't said anything to her back in Rome, he'd mentioned something about following the rules.

She was following the damn rules.

"No wonder you're so uptight," Hunt sighed. "Darling, you should-"

"Can you get me some water?" she asked suddenly. "Sparkling. I'm parched - all this socializing."

Ethan glanced at her, his eyes narrowed, but Kate gave him a flat and neutral look in return. He disengaged from her arm and headed for the bar at the opposite end of the room.

Kate waited and then she nudged through the crowd near the art auction, heading for the man she'd seen in profile just seconds ago.

Castle.

He must have felt her eyes on him because he paused and allowed her catch up. Kate slipped her arm through his and he sighed, gave her a frown. "You shouldn't be near this door."

"You aren't going in there, are you?"

"I have to." He wouldn't look at her.

Kate clutched his arm, angling him behind one of the pillars in the atrium. "Mitchell hasn't found blueprints, there aren't any cameras past that door. You have no back-up, Castle."

"We're running out of time," he sighed. His eyes came to hers. "Kate."

"No." She gestured towards the party. "There are people here who will see you. Security is obviously through there - some kind of main center, the hub."

"Which means it's the best place for Threkeld to be held."

Kate chewed on the inside of her cheek and glanced helplessly around the room. She didn't like this. "You couldn't get Esposito inside? If Espo doesn't get in here, then we don't have clothes for Threkeld to change into. Our whole exit strategy is busted."

"I bet whatever is past this door has outside access. I can take him out of here the way they brought him in."

"But-"

"Walker already scrubbed through the last day's worth of security cameras," Castle interrupted. "We know they _didn't_ go through these main rooms. So they didn't use the front door, therefore - street access. Kate, it's the best we got."

And he wasn't going to let her come with him.

"Shit," Castle growled. "Ethan Hunt is headed this way. Kate. Run interference. I've got to go."

She let out a noise and he squeezed her arm, brought her in for a hard kiss. She clutched his jacket, her heart thundering, but he was already slipping away from her.

And then she felt it.

Butterflies under her skin, a tickling behind her belly button that made her breath catch.

She could feel the baby. She could feel him.

It was the first time.

"Beckett? I saw him with you. Where did he go?"

Kate turned blindly to Ethan Hunt, but he wasn't the man she wanted to share this with. The one she wanted had just disappeared behind a locked door as easily as a ghost, and she was left on the outside.

She would just have to protect him as best she could.

"Ethan," she said smoothly, drawing him towards the main room again. "Is this my sparkling water?"

_Keep moving, baby. Keeping moving for me._

* * *

He had to keep moving.

That's all there was to it. He couldn't stop and explore; he would just have to go to the end of the line until he found the exit, and then he could backtrack, look for Threkeld.

_Always know your exits._

His father was a conniving bastard, but he'd trained Castle well. When he was under pressure like this, it was his father's voice in his head - calm, clear, dispassionate. He didn't like it, but forty years of brainwashing didn't disappear quite so quickly.

He'd use whatever he could.

The door just off the atrium had led to a series of offices off a main hall, the environmentally-friendly lights set into the ceiling panels overhead. Castle had quickly rushed past the key-code doors and towards a T-junction at the end of the hall. He head checked both ways, saw no one, and chose the left, moving further away from the atrium.

If Kate were here, she'd have that unerring sense of direction. She'd know exactly where to go, how far underground they were going.

Underground. Ah, he _was_ actually heading underground. The hallway was sloping minimally, but it definitely had a slope, the air felt different even with the climate control.

And then he came to another T-junction and the hall to the left held a short flight of stairs, while the right went on like before.

He really didn't like this. The doors were locked and it wasn't like his fancy CIA phone was going to get him past those key-coded panels. He had nowhere to hide should security come upon him.

Nothing to do about it. The Collective obviously had friends in the Austrian government, and while Castle had been a part of the team that had quietly gotten rid of a certain party leader with anti-Semite leanings, he didn't know enough about current Austrian politics to know _why_. Why the Austrian embassy would give the Collective asylum.

He didn't have a choice; too many questions and not enough answers. He turned away from the stairs and hurried through the opposite hallway. Going deeper underground might lead him to Threkeld, but he had a feeling it wouldn't give him an exit.

Exit first. He had to make it out of here. Did Threkeld no good if they got stuck.

The floor sloped upwards here, but the map he was forming behind his eyes made him think this hallway ran parallel to the parking lot at the east side of the building. It was turning out to be a much longer hallway than he was expecting, and now the doors began to disappear.

It was solely corridor now, no doors, no junctions, just a final push towards something big.

Castle slowed.

The exit would be guarded; there would be MPs or even security agents at some kind of station, most likely behind bulletproof glass. Cameras would have to be up, the closed-circuit tvs installed inside the booth.

Shit.

Castle couldn't hope to avoid them; in fact, soon Castle would come upon them if this corridor led to an outside exit as he suspected.

He had to stop.

He had to go back, go deeper into the compound. But first.

Castle glanced left and right, but he was alone in the brightly-lit white hallway. He pulled out his phone and had no problem getting a signal; he made the call while he jogged back towards that former junction and those stairs leading down.

"Yo, Castle, you find a blind spot for me?" Esposito answered.

"I might have. That door Kate mentioned?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm on the other side. There's a long corridor that seems to run parallel to where you are. I need you to look around out there, Espo, should be a private entrance to this underground portion."

"Got you," Esposito said. Already Castle could hear him making noise as he got out of the car. "I'm on my way."

"When I text you, I'm gonna need you to come in hard, take out the guards. I don't know the layout, though, Espo. I couldn't make an approach without being discovered."

"I understand."

He was asking for a lot, and he knew it, but they both wanted to keep Kate out of this. "Thanks, Javi."

"You just get your doctor. I'm making you a door."

* * *

Kate didn't need champagne, she had bubbles of her own.

Of course James would choose now to make himself known. She wondered how long the baby had been moving and she hadn't noticed, how long this rolling sensation had been going on inside her. It was constant now, every few seconds another bubble bursting.

"You have an entirely ridiculous look on your face," Hunt said sourly. "What the hell is he doing?"

What?

Oh, Castle.

"Ethan, you stick with me and you'll be doing exactly what Black wants."

"I don't care about Black. I'm supposed to be your back-up."

"That's what we're doing."

"It's a doctor," Hunt said grimly. "He told me that much. They've got an American doctor."

"Biological warfare," Kate hushed, nudging Hunt away from the bar where people were gathering. "Let's look at the art."

"You can't possibly-"

"Take me to the auction room, Ethan. My husband put a bid on one of the paintings and I want to see if we've won."

"The auction closes in twenty minutes."

"Then I can increase his bid if I need to," Kate said, giving him a wink. She didn't feel like winking, she felt like wrapping her arms around Castle and somehow transferring this sensation to him, give him the same awareness of their son.

But Castle was behind that door.

"Ethan," she said sharply. He'd been going for the stairs just past the auction room's entrance.

"He's up there?" Hunt said.

She didn't want him to know; she didn't trust Ethan's agenda here tonight. So she kept her face blank and let him draw his own conclusions.

"He's there," Ethan said grimly. And then he shook off her hand and headed for the stairs.

Kate stepped to follow, to force him back into the atrium and the party, but then she hesitated.

The Collective had to know someone would come for Threkeld. They'd be more careful tonight than any other night with the gala here.

Castle had told her to serve as a distraction for Ethan, but what if Ethan could be _their_ distraction?

He'd used her in London, shamelessly, and if it meant keeping Castle protected, then Kate had no problem using Ethan Hunt in return.

He'd been sent here as back-up, so let him be their back-up.

Kate let him go. Nothing they needed was up those stairs anyway.

Let security find Ethan Hunt.


	10. Chapter 10

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

Castle checked the message from Kate and winced; she had let Ethan head upstairs alone without any kind of guidance. He was going to get caught. And when he did...

Actually.

There was an idea.

Better idea than he'd had lately. Castle was down here running around in circles searching for Threkeld. He'd found a couple of unlocked doors but it was clearly the security offices' storage rooms and the like. He'd found some riot gear and a janitor's closet, but he hadn't found anything like holding rooms or even an infirmary.

But getting caught - getting caught was an idea. If he got caught they'd have to take him straight to Threkeld. And since the plan had been for Castle to go in alone, Beckett had insisted on the GPS tracker under his skin. So he was tagged.

All he had to do was get caught.

He had run across a few groups of security guards; once an entire squad of MPs had marched right past the room of riot gear. It was obvious something was going on down here. Kate had been right about the activity, but Castle had managed to hide himself before anyone had come upon him.

But if he got captured, they'd figure out he was one of the guests upstairs. They wouldn't know what to do with him, so they'd bring him to their superiors - and straight to wherever they were holding Threkeld.

And with the GPS, Esposito could come right to him. He hoped.

Castle scanned the hallway and headed back for the janitor's closet, regrouping as he thought through his new plan. The door opened easily and he shut it behind him, sank against the wall of the little closet.

Get caught. He'd done it before. As a ploy, it was difficult to pull off alone, though he'd done that too. But knowing Esposito was right outside, that the GPS would lead him straight to a rescue, that made it easier.

He called Kate.

* * *

"No!" she shouted in the phone.

Too loud.

Kate ducked and hurried to the far end of the auction room, her cheeks flaming as people turned their heads. She had to leave the room entirely, push past the party-goers to find the front doors and cooler air.

The night was dark, and the doors were attended, so Kate walked halfway down the white carpet to avoid them.

"Castle, no," she whispered urgently.

"We're running out of time. The auction ends in five minutes and then the party degenerates after that. We need to move now."

"We're supposed to be doing this quietly," she said.

"It's still quiet. I get caught, they take me straight to Threkeld, and then Espo comes to me."

"What if Espo can't get in?" she growled. The baby was fluttering soft and sweet and she was having a hard time hanging on to the panic when it felt like this. "No. Castle, no, we're not doing this."

"I can't find him, Kate. I wish I could, but every door is locked."

"Then I'll smuggle you in some lock picking tools."

"Computer panel with a key code."

"Shit."

"If they catch me, they'll see I'm a guest. I'll make noises about being a guest, unhand me you swine-"

"You're not funny."

"I am a little," he murmured quietly. "You're smiling. I can hear it."

She wasn't. "Castle."

"I get caught; they take me to their chief of security. A person who is presumably overseeing whatever interrogation techniques they're doing on Threkeld. It at least gets me behind those locked doors."

She made an awful noise she couldn't seem to hold back.

"Kate."

"And how does Espo get past those locked doors?"

"Espo is bringing firepower in with him. I don't have any of that."

"Castle, please don't."

"If I don't, I'll never find him. And we're dead, Kate. We're dead."

Bubbles under her skin.

The moment Esposito breached the underground entrance, Castle and Threkeld were certain to be moved, hustled out of there. It would have to be simultaneous - the breach and their rescue.

"I can probably get us both out, Kate. On my own. They won't know who I am, what I can do."

"Castle," she tried again, "this isn't a good idea."

"It's the only one we got."

She had nothing left, no more arguments, no way to _make_ him. He was doing this _for_ them, and she knew he had to.

"I can feel him," she said suddenly, closing her eyes.

"What?"

"James. I can feel him."

"You can?" Castle gasped. "What - what does it feel like?"

She pressed her hand to her stomach and dipped low to the place where James seemed to be. "Um. Soft."

"Soft?" His voice was deep, rich; he sounded like he was standing right beside her.

"Soft and... tickling. Inside."

"Yeah?"

"Champagne bubbles popping, one at a time. I don't know, that's not quite it. It's - unlike anything I know."

"Kate."

She could feel the baby now, even now, her heart racing - and maybe that was why. She was getting his little heart rate up too.

"There's nothing else I can do, Kate."

"I know," she sighed.

But if anything happened, she'd be coming in there after him.

She and James both.

* * *

He had a knee in his back, his neck contorted, his cheek and chin pressed hard into the tile floor. Castle kicked out and got one of the guards in the groin, received a blow to the back of his head for it.

There was a starburst of darkness but he breathed through it and was hauled to his feet by three men, shoved forward.

He kept track of the doors and the hallways, counted in his head. He got a punch to the kidney for no reason he could fathom, and then he was pushed to his knees before a door that looked like any other.

The guard at his right entered the code - _460-33-1418 _- and then the lock sounded and released. The guard at his left pushed it open and Castle was yanked to his feet once more.

"Guys, really," he said. "I got lost. Looking for the bathroom. I'm supposed to be claiming some art-"

"Shut up."

"This is all a misunderstanding-"

The smash of a fist into the side of his head made him shut up. His jaw ached enough but he let himself stumble to one knee, feigning more hurt than he felt. They weren't messing around here - kidney punches, blows to the head, these weren't techniques to subdue a guest.

"Mr. Wilson?" a guard called out.

Castle was being shoved down a dim corridor with windows set into the wall like viewing portals. The glass was warped - some kind of specialty construction - and Castle realized that each window looked on to a holding cell.

And there was Threkeld, behind glass, handcuffed to a chair and bleeding. His glasses were crooked on his face, one lens was spider-webbed with cracks, and his head was bowed forward.

Castle's attention was pulled from the doctor by the man who came out from behind a bank of computers. He was imposing, dressed impeccably, his fingers on on his left hand rubbing against his thumb in a movement that seemed self-soothing.

"Mr Wilson, we found a guest roaming the back hall."

"Ah."

Well, fuck. Mr Wilson had gone to the same school of inscrutable sounds as Castle and his own father. Kate would laugh. If she were here, if he got out of this to tell her.

Actually, Kate might not laugh at all.

"Did you get lost?" Mr Wilson said, tilting his head to look at him. He snapped his fingers at one of the guards and was presented immediately with some kind of tablet.

"I was looking for a bathroom?" Castle answered, letting his eyes dart around like a scared civilian. He used that quick scan to quickly catalogue the place where they were being held.

Matte black halls, dark carpeting to suppress sounds, a kind of central hub where Mr Wilson presumably kept track of what happened in the holding cells. The door they'd come through was off a hallway that spoked back to this command center, and there was another hall opposite that led to another door that Castle couldn't see.

"Looking for a bathroom, Mr..."

He hesitated.

Mr Wilson's eyes snapped up to his, narrowing in thoughtfulness.

"What are you going to do to me?" Castle asked instead, delaying for time. He'd told Esposito to give him ten minutes to get a handle on this, ten minutes to be caught and find Threkeld, but he suddenly wasn't sure he'd _get_ ten minutes. Wilson looked entirely too ready to get rid of obstacles.

"Who said we were going to _do_ anything?"

"I'm not stupid," he answered, letting his eyes wander the place again. For effect, but also to take another inventory of the command center. "You've got people locked up in here. This is the Austrian Embassy, not even American soil."

"You're American then."

He flinched like the man was too good for him and caught the time on his watch. He had six minutes to kill. To not _be_ killed.

"Turn out his pockets," Wilson snapped.

Only one guard holstered his weapon, which was a bad sign for Castle, but the man moved in and started patting him down. The guard was too close, Castle could take him out; it'd be four against one then, better odds. Plus Castle didn't think Wilson would punish him for taking his chances.

So he did.

The guard leaned in and found the phone in his jacket pocket, and Castle jerked his knee up into the guard's vulnerable neck. The man gave a wheezing, choked noise and dropped to Castle's feet, clawing for breath, face already turning purple. He wouldn't get it. His trachea would swell up and close off his airway if he didn't receive treatment. Castle lunged like he was going for the others, like he was just a scared civilian doing something stupid, but of the course the four guards subdued him.

Wilson ignored the man slowly dying on the floor, and he regarded Castle thoughtfully.

The three guards remaining were hesitating, giving each other looks, giving Wilson looks, and finally one broke configuration to bend down over the man on the floor.

"Stand up," Wilson snapped. "Leave him. His own fault."

Castle could tell that didn't sit well with any of the men, and he realized that Wilson wasn't their boss, or at least not usually. They weren't used to following his directives, and they weren't comfortable with his treatment of the men under him. Dissent sizzled in their ranks, but they were too fearful to do anything about it.

Which meant that Wilson wasn't Embassy security. Wilson was in the Collective.

* * *

When Esposito called, Kate jerked out of the atrium once more and answered, dread pooling low in her guts.

"You got his signal in there?"

"Espo," she groaned.

"Just tell me you have a read on his GPS, Beckett."

She pressed her lips together and lowered the phone, switched apps to look at the GPS.

Oh, God.

"No," she croaked. "It's gone. Espo-"

"I think wherever they took him, it's got shielding of some kind. Makes sense if they hold prisoners-"

"Esposito, how do we fix this?" she said tersely, cutting him off. "Tell me how we get my husband out of there."

"I - don't know. I have him up to a point, but then he disappeared."

She sucked in a tight breath, pressed her hand to her belly where James _had_ to be doing somersaults. What in the world?

"Espo."

"I don't know, Beckett. I don't - I have no idea. I could blow the exit doors right now and just take the place but Castle was running in circles down there, and I don't know where in the hell I'm going."

"No, no," she croaked. "Won't - won't do us any good."

The bubbles shimmied in her guts, tickling her insides, and she closed her eyes. _I'm trying, I'm trying_.

"Can you come meet me out front?" she asked. "Can you bring me our supplies?"

"What?"

"I know they checked the limo when we came on the grounds, but you brought things through, Espo, I know you did. Just in case."

"I did," he growled. "But what are you saying?"

She didn't know what she was saying. "Will the security outside let you meet me in the driveway?"

"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, but-"

"I'm heading your way now." She ended the call before he could try to talk her out of it.

* * *

"What do you think you're doing?" Esposito growled.

She held out her hand, wordless.

"Beckett. You are not going in there."

"Give it to me. Whatever you have."

"All I have for you is a damn knife," he muttered, but he handed it over. "You got no place to put the guns."

More than one? Esposito had smuggled _more than one gun_ into the Austrian Embassy property? They were going to have to go over this later, because if he could do it, so could someone else - and she was thinking more about the American embassies on supposedly friendly soil.

"I can hide it in here - I have this," she said, opening the silk clutch. Her phone was inside, but she was already tucking the knife into the bodice of her dress. "I need a gun, Espo."

"You're not going in there."

"I'm already in there. I'm the only one in there."

"You and the _baby_," he hissed.

She set her jaw. "So it's a family affair. Give me the gun."

Esposito growled and rubbed his hand over his head. "Beckett, don't make me do this."

"Whose side are you on? Mine or theirs?"

"I'm on yours, but you go in there and you're just as dead as him."

"He's not dead," she rasped. "And if he is, then so am I, so is James. It's not about biological weapons, Javi, and you know it. It's about him. About what they can do with him."

Esposito grunted and pulled something from his jacket, angling behind her body to keep him out of sight of the guards at the entrance. "It's got five bullets. It'll fit in that damn purse thing. The other one won't."

"Thank you," she breathed. She hadn't been at all sure that Esposito would help her.

"Damn it, Beckett. At least take Hunt with you. Bring him so that Castle doesn't totally rip me a new one."

Bring... Hunt?

Kate grinned, reached out to grip Espo by the lapels of his driver's jacket. "You are brilliant, Javi." She kissed him hard on the mouth and spun around, heading back for the party inside.

"What?" he called after her.

She ignored him and kept going; she had to see a man about an unwanted guest prowling upstairs.

* * *

"Excuse me," she said icily. "You have a problem."

The man she'd chosen had needed to be low enough on the totem pole to be snowed by her, but high enough to get her access. She'd picked this one - burly with the confidence of his build to make him arrogant, but with the earpiece dangling out of his ear, also not willing to be led by others' reports, wanting fresh eyes.

"I have a problem," he echoed, frowning at her.

"Yes." She tucked her purse under one arm and glanced towards the stairs just before the atrium. "You have an unwelcome guest."

"Oh, really," he said drily.

"Open your eyes. Eighty percent of the people here are drunk. The showrunners are busy in the auction room. And where is the guard you posted on the stairs?"

The guard had actually been there, but she and Castle had noticed he had a regular route that took him away from time to time.

The burly guy before her gave a flickering look to the staircase, narrowed his eyes.

"I've been given information from an associate that you have a man - shall we call him in the business? - upstairs snooping around."

The guard frowned fiercely at her, but he kept looking towards the stairs. "And who are you? I don't know you or your associate."

"I think you do," she said calmly. The fluttering started up under her skin again. "You might call me... independent security."

A muscle worked in the man's jaw and he shifted to one side. She was banking on the security detail having been overrun by the Collective people who were holding Threkeld.

She smiled but it was more like a grimace. "So I'm going to need you to come with me. We'll take this man into custody and then bring him to my boss."

At that, the guard stiffened. The skin under his eyes was blanching, as if he was deathly afraid.

Beckett didn't think that was good for Castle. That was really really bad, actually. It meant the Collective men here in the embassy were rather high up. And rather ruthless.

"All right. Fine. Where upstairs?"

Beckett gave him a look. "Isn't that your job?" she said.

The guard sighed and his shoulders slumped in defeat, but he headed for the stairs.

With James stirring inside her, Kate followed the security guard.

She hoped he wasn't too hard on Hunt.

* * *

Castle caught a blow to the mouth, but he moved his head back just enough to avoid the worst of it, pushing his tongue around his teeth and spitting blood to the floor.

Wilson stood immobile for a moment longer, and after Castle was sufficiently roughed up - another punch to the face that caught his cheekbone - he gave the signal and the guards fell back, both of them panting for breath and overworked.

Embassy security didn't often get the chance to get their hands dirty.

"You're a guest," Wilson said softly. His fingers were rubbing against his thumb again, that gesture that seemed so out of place on a man of his importance. He held the tablet in one hand, was reading from it. "Rick Rodgers, I see."

"Yes," he said, spitting blood. He hoped he'd gotten it on Wilson's shiny shoes. He hoped his face wasn't healing too quickly either, but he could already feel the heat in his cheek and inside his mouth, that heat of clotting blood.

He'd done a few experimental tests on himself at Stone Farm, allowed Boyd to see just how fast his blood worked to heal his body. They hadn't gotten too far with it - he did still feel the _pain_ of it, and Beckett would sure as hell not approve - but he knew enough to recognize the signs.

"Richard Rodgers," Wilson said, rolling the name around in his mouth. "Where have I heard that name?"

He kept silent, kept his eyes on the man from the Collective. Wilson was taunting him, of course; he knew perfectly well. He had most likely spent the time Castle was getting a beatdown searching for background on Richard Rodgers on that stupid tablet.

Castle wasn't worried; his cover was airtight. What troubled him was the idea of Wilson sending his guys out to the party and collecting his wife. But he didn't know how to play this until the man tipped his hand.

Wilson smiled. "Ah, your lovely wife."

He would never again say _ah_ in response to his lovely wife. He swore. Never.

"She was on the hook for shooting a US senator. How interesting. Do the two of you frequently stick your noses where they don't belong?"

"Just me," he scraped out. It took effort to make his voice sound pitted, thick with the beating he'd taken. Already his gums had stopped bleeding, his cheek tingling with the effort of healing. The beatdown should have crippled a man, but Castle was only feeling a little hazy. And that was slowly dissipating as well.

"Your wife is a cop-"

"Was. She had to quit," he said congenially. "Can't exactly do undercover work when your face has been all over New York."

It was past the planned six minutes. Espo would be coming any second now. Wilson would get the call from his security team, a panic button or alarm, and Castle would use the momentary distraction to get the gun off the security agent standing guard over him.

The other two were still shaking out their fists and undoing their jacket buttons, and it would be two quick shots to take them down. Castle would run for the room just a hundred paces from here, shoot the key pad entry, grab Threkeld and be out the door before Wilson could scramble another team.

"Moved to DC last month. You have a cozy condo in Alexandria as well as the place in New York. I'm assuming you got a settlement from the government."

"Perhaps." In a manner of speaking.

"Started a non-profit looking to expose the evils of Capitol Hill. How quaint. You're both still acting the cop, aren't you?"

"I was just looking for the bathroom. I'm curious. I go where I shouldn't," he tried.

"You are curious. I bet that's how you two met. She was undercover and you went where you shouldn't have. Did she arrest you? Love at first sight?"

He didn't like where this was headed.

"Perhaps we should invite your wife to this... curiosity."

Any time now, Esposito.

* * *

"What the _hell_?"

The hulking guard had accosted Hunt in the hallway.

Beckett widened her eyes and Hunt flared his nostrils but he shut up. Just beside her, the Hulk got a solid punch to Hunt's gut and the British Inspector went down to one knee, wheezing.

"Take him," Beckett said calmly, frowning down at Hunt. Honestly she had thought he'd be much harder to take down.

"Yes, ma'am," the Hulk said. He zip-tied Hunt's hands aggressively and hauled the man up. "On your feet, asshole."

Beckett crossed her arms over her chest, grateful that the baby wasn't quite big enough to make that move awkward. He was still fluttering around down there, or maybe that was her own anxious energy urging her towards movement. She had to push it out of her mind.

Hulk marched Hunt down the hallway, away from the stairs they'd come up, and Kate followed, pretending she knew where they were going. She'd been angling to get them past that door, but if Hulk didn't want to disrupt the party with a still-protesting Hunt, then she didn't know what else to do but follow.

Hulk led them to a locked door that opened to a staircase leading down. Rather than the expensive wood paneling and chrome detailing of the hall offices, these stairs were bare concrete. She quickly went over the mental blueprint and gauged that these stairs headed just alongside the atrium wall - and right past that door.

She hoped.

Hunt swiveled his head to look at her and she made a gesture to keep him silent; he was furious with her, she could tell, but she had no room for remorse. _Go with it_, she ordered him silently. _Just let this happen._

The stairs echoed with their footsteps and Hunt had finally shut his mouth, fuming, ticked, while the Hulk shoved on him, keeping him just enough off balance that he couldn't strike back.

Hulk was smarter than she'd given him credit. This might get tricky.

At the base of the stairs, the Hulk glanced back at her and she nodded; he moved Hunt forward into a brightly-lit hallway, searingly white. The overhead lights had a faintly blue cast to them, and the Hulk was shoving on Hunt, pushing the man ahead of them.

Kate slipped her fingers to the tight bodice of her strapless dress, palmed the knife. It was a four-inch, the handle lightweight, and Kate kept her hand down at her side as they walked, getting used to the balance of the blade.

The Hulk glanced back at her. "Ma'am, does Mr Wilson want him inside with the other?"

"Yes," she said icily. "Of course." Mr Wilson, huh?

Hulk nodded and took the next turn, started down a long hallway. Kate opened her clutch as the Hulk gripped Hunt by the back of the neck like a truant schoolboy. She pulled out her phone, quietly unlocked the screen, and hovered her thumb over the send button.

Any second now. It had to be simultaneous.

The Hulk glanced back at her again and she gave him a cool eyebrow.

"Uh, ma'am?"

"What's the problem?" she said, her impatience unfeigned.

"I just - Mr Wilson did say that no one was to go inside."

"And I'm saying we have a security problem that Mr Wilson is going to want to handle himself. Wouldn't you agree?"

The Hulk winced. "Yes, ma'am."

"So. Let's go," she said, making a hurry up motion. She didn't have time for this. Castle didn't have time for this.

Hulk turned back around and pushed Hunt down the hall again, but Hunt was shooting her daggers.

_Keep your mouth shut_, she mouthed.

It was a long walk down the hall before the Hulk stopped in front of a nondescript door; he pressed the first key of the sequence into the keypad, and Kate stepped to one side of him.

She juggled the blade in her right hand and watched the Hulk's hand as he depressed the second number. She didn't know how long the code would be, but the moment between the last number and the door opening, she had to bring him down.

Hunt shot her a quick look and she ignored him. He was on his own.

Five numbers now. Her palms were damp; she gripped the handle of the knife.

Seven. Eight. And now the Hulk was withdrawing his finger and Kate heard the whine of the door. She hit send on her phone, made sure it went, and then got ready.

Hulk pushed open the door.

Kate lunged forward, stabbed the blade just under the man's ear to the hilt, jerked it forward and across his throat. Hulk gargled, voice stolen by the blood spewing and soaking Kate's hand, slippery on the knife. He staggered and she fell hard into the door, her shoulder shoving it all the way open - open on chaos.

Chaos. Gunfire, dark hallway, glass shattering, shouting - Castle.

In her distraction, the Hulk got a hand up at her, his fingers circling her throat in a dead man's grip, his eyes terrified and furious on hers. She couldn't hang on to the knife, and he reached up and yanked it out, but the blood gushed now, and she torqued away, choking as his fingers dug into her trachea.

But Hulk brought up the knife, eyes burning on hers, and she was trapped between him and the door.


	11. Chapter 11

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

A siren screamed through the security station.

Wilson jerked away from Castle and headed for the command center, lunging through the glass door and behind the computers. The knot of guys around Castle seemed to be knocked off balance by the alarm's bone-rattling screech, and he knew he had to move fast.

He took the gun from the nearest guard's holster, shot the two with their jackets open, turned and shot the one he'd disarmed. He turned to Wilson to take aim, but Wilson had slapped the door shut and Castle knew it was bulletproof glass.

He cut his losses, the gun still gripped between his zip-tied hands, brought the weapon around to the holding room, ignoring the commotion going on behind him. He could only hope it was Esposito. Castle shot at the observation glass where Threkeld was being held, shot again until it spider-webbed. He smashed both fists and the butt of the gun into the cracking glass and it finally shattered.

Castle got his elbows into the sill and hauled himself over the ledge, swung down into the room. Threkeld was staring at him.

He pressed a finger to his lips in case the room was miked and Threkeld blinked, his eyes wavering behind his glasses. When Castle got to him, the doctor held up his bound wrists.

"You and me both," Castle sighed.

He dropped the gun in favor of yanking hard on his wrists. Zip ties had a week point, and the right pressure snapped Castle's right open. Threkeld stared at him.

"It only hurts a little," he promised.

Threkeld didn't even flinch. Castle did the same on his wrists and wrapped his arm around the man's shoulders, dragged him out of the chair. Threkeld was unsteady on his feet and Castle had to carry his weight back to the smashed window.

Where Hunt was holding out his hands, the remnants of a zip-tie around one wrist. He looked battered.

"Ethan?" Castle stared.

"No time. Hand him over. Beckett-"

Castle left Threkeld to Hunt and vaulted over the window, rolling into a crouch. When he lifted his head, he saw Beckett being thrown over a guard's shoulder by the neck, but she was clinging to the man. Castle darted forward, calculating the angles even as Kate kicked hard into the man's armpit and snapped off her shoe's heel. She staggered.

"Kate!"

There was a knife. Guard had a knife.

Kate twisted and brought her knee up into the guard's elbow; the knife dropped and Castle followed through with a left hook that brought the guard all the way to the floor. Kate lurched with the man's momentum and he caught before she could stumble.

"Damn it, my shoe," she croaked. Blood was smeared on her neck, her throat worked hard under the graze. She stepped awkwardly and grabbed hold of his jacket for balance, tilted on the broken shoe and brought her foot up.

Castle bent down and broke the heel off the good shoe, and her height dropped three inches. Kate gave him a weak smile and bent down to snag the gun from the dead guard.

"Fuck, this is fucked up," Castle heard, and he turned to find Hunt right there with Threkeld.

Kate glanced to Hunt then back to Castle, passing the guard's gun over to him. "Hunt played-"

"No time for a reunion," Castle said, cutting her off, fingers flexing on the gun. "Guy in the command center back there is in charge of this."

Kate darted a look past him but she moved for the door. "Esposito's coming through the back exit for us. Castle? You know where we need to go."

He didn't like it, but he took the lead with the guard's weapon while Kate followed in the rear with a gun she'd pulled out of her ripped clutch. Shit. He knew that weapon.

It only had five rounds. It barely did her any good.

* * *

It only took a few steps before Kate realized - someone was behind them.

She felt the ice go down her spine and she paused, opened her mouth to call quietly for her husband, but somehow Castle already knew. She didn't get a chance to say a word. He stopped dead and turned back to her, his eyes burning into hers. Hunt, holding up Threkeld, collided with Castle, but Castle shook his head, said something, and sent the two on ahead with the guard's gun.

"Kate," he said, coming back to her.

"Someone back there," she rasped. She felt it cold, cold down through to her bones. "Who was that-" She stopped and stared at him. "He saw you. Didn't he? Whoever he is, he saw you take out those guards like you do, _super,_ and-"

Castle grabbed the gun from her hand before she could even finish her sentence.

She lunged for it, but Castle held her off.

"No! Castle."

"Go. Now. Get Threkeld to Esposito."

"Castle," she hissed.

"He knows my face, my identity. But he _hasn't_ _seen you_."

Meaning, the man didn't know she was pregnant. Kate blinked, and Castle pushed her down the hall.

"Go. Get Threkeld to safety and I'll be right behind you."

If he kissed her, she wasn't going. If he did the whole damn good-bye shit, she was going to -

He didn't kiss her; he took off his shoes and socks, handed them to her. "For Threkeld. He's got nothing." And then Castle began stalking down the corridor, deadly, silent, completely capable. He didn't even give her a backward glance.

So Kate took a shaky breath and turned to follow Hunt and Threkeld. Sooner she got to Esposito, sooner she got a gun and could back Castle up.

There were only five rounds in that damn gun.

* * *

Castle breathed slowly, listening, unable to shut down the litany screaming in his own head.

Mr Wilson knew his cover. Mr Wilson had seen Rick Rodgers explode into spy mode and take out four guards, break the observational glass and rescue a doctor associated with the regimen program. Even if Wilson didn't suspect that Castle was super, he knew Rodgers was a cover.

And he knew who Mrs Rodgers was as well.

Castle could only come to one conclusion: Wilson had to die.

Thankfully, Wilson was following them and Beckett had sensed it, heard it somehow, before it could be too late.

Castle stepped lightly down the hallway, keeping the gun held in both hands, close to his body as he hunted. There were twists and turns this direction - they hadn't made it yet to the lone exit corridor when Kate had stopped - and he used those corners to his advantage.

He wasn't lost; he was backtracking the halls, snaking through the maze of closed, locked-door offices. Castle paused at a noise and listened carefully, hesitating at a corner.

He heard quick breathing.

Apparently Mr Wilson wasn't used to doing his own dirty work; he was breathing as hard as his rented embassy guards. Castle pressed himself to the wall. Wilson was just beyond the corner, coming a little too quickly.

Wilson had inspired quite a lot of fear in the guards, and he was most definitely Collective, but Wilson was only a man.

And Castle was more.

He crouched low to the ground and balanced on the balls of his feet, counted his breaths. The second before he was about to clear the corner and shoot, an icy cold fist gripped his spine. It stayed him, made him freeze in his tracks.

It was a decoy.

Castle pivoted in his crouch and brought the gun up, shot twice at the figure hurtling towards him. Wilson jerked, stunned, and stared down at the holes in his chest as if they were stains on his immaculate suit.

Castle shot him between the eyes and Wilson dropped. Three rounds.

Castle pressed back against the wall, carefully eased around the corner to check. It was a cell phone on the floor making the breathing noises, and Castle bent down, scooped it up.

He should take the phone with him, get what they could off its SIM card, for the contacts alone. And thinking of that-

He went back to the body, patted the man down until he found the tablet tucked into Wilson's inside jacket pocket. He pulled it out and woke the screen, saw his own face staring back at him - a DMV photo for Rick Rodgers.

And holy shit, the tablet was on a network.

He had no idea where this information had gone out to.

* * *

Threkeld was coming around, looking at little more with it, when Esposito shouted at them from the end of a long corridor, orienting them towards his voice. Kate turned and saw him sprinting down the hall, and she called to Hunt who had ranged a little ways ahead of them.

"Back this way," she yelled. "Espo!"

"Beckett. Where's Castle?"

"He went back. I need that gun."

"I gave you-"

"A damn bigger gun," she snarled. "Right now."

Esposito handed it to her in the next heartbeat, giving her the automatic. She spun on her damn broken heels and headed back into the maze of hallways, her direction unfaltering.

She sprinted, her shoes clattering against the floor, unable to take the time to be quieter. Her heart was pounding in her throat, but strangely - she didn't feel the baby at all.

Kate stopped before the T-junction, arrested by the silence.

Nothing inside her moving, nothing outside. That tickling sensation was gone, but so was the icy cold of fear. There was just - nothing. She pressed her elbows against her ribs and tried to be smart, tried to be better, tried to hold back.

But it was no use. She took the corner in a rush and ran full speed straight into Castle. He grunted and caught her elbows and something fell to the floor.

"Castle," she gasped.

"I need your help," he said, his eyes grim. He let go of her and bent down, grabbed something - a tablet. Held it out to her. "It's networked. I need you to-"

She snagged the tablet in horror, saw his face staring back at her. Not just _his_ face, but Rick Rodgers's face.

"It's networked," he gruffed, cupping her elbows as she cradled the tablet.

"I can... I can't fix this," she moaned.

"Walker," he said. "Walker can fix it."

She stared up at him. "We don't have time."

"Walker can fix it," he repeated. He had started pushing her down the hall.

"No. Castle. The network, has to have network access. Walker and Mitch are too far-"

"I called Mitch," Castle said, shaking his head. "He's on his way in. He's-"

"You called Mitch?"

"Beckett, we need to meet them at the exit. Where's-"

She grabbed the lapel of his jacket and tugged him after her, started sprinting back for that corridor where she'd left Esposito. Castle jogged at her side, his hand fisted in the back of her dress, following her lead. She had the place ingrained; she knew it by heart. But these damn shoes.

She had the two of them at the corridor in moments, and there was _Hunt_ - but he was ushering Walker down the hall. Mitchell had broken them in, thank God. She didn't think it would be possible.

"You got it?" Walker called.

"Hush, you damn idiot," Hunt hissed, head-checking the corridor. They met in the vast whiteness, and he immediately put his back to them, guarding their way.

"What are you doing here?" Castle harshed.

"I volunteered for this, don't ask me fucking why. The four of us are gonna have to do this on the run. Mitchell and Esposito busted Threkeld outta here and made a fucking scene at the back."

"What?" Castle growled.

"No use - couldn't help it. We can't go back that way, though. They're headed inside now, headed our way."

Kate shoved the tablet at Walker and brought her own weapon up, Castle at her side forming a wall. He growled something to Hunt and then turned to her. "We can't use the back exit; we can't use that damn door because it leads straight into the party. We are fucked."

"No. Actually. There's another way," she croaked. "Come on."

Thank God for the Hulk.

* * *

Castle was right on Beckett's lead, not happy with her taking point but not able to see a way around it. She'd led them to a concrete staircase that he'd missed in his previous searching, and they started up the stairs - horribly vulnerable to whatever might be coming down.

Hunt had the rear guard while Walker tried to network and run at the same time. It couldn't be easy on him, the jostling, getting jerked from doorway to doorway as they had run, but Castle had to give the man props for the cool way he handled himself.

Beckett had been right - Walker had something to prove to them, after Black, and they were getting a man more dedicated and loyal than any other they could have chosen.

When they got to a wooden door at the top of the stairs, Castle shouldered Beckett aside and went first, easing it open with his bulk blocking the line of sight. He waited a moment, listening, and already he could hear the security guards down in the atrium calling for attention in German and English, herding people.

The mission had truly gone to hell.

"Walker?" he called tightly.

"Almost there, almost..."

"Okay, Beckett, stay with him. Hunt. On me." He gave Kate a hard look, traded guns with her, and whatever rebellion had been fomenting seemed to die in her eyes. Hunt slithered up between them and Castle let the man go first, slid out from behind the door after him.

His eyes had to adjust to the relative dark, the muted hallway with its offices, the wood paneling. He checked the gun Beckett had given him - she had fucking knifed that guard, stabbed him in side of the neck, fuck she was _badass_-

"This way," Hunt murmured.

Castle gave him a suspicious look.

"Look, I know Agent Black has had some apparently nefarious dealings with you in the past, but he really did tell me to provide back-up. I can't do that if you're constantly second-guessing me."

Black did what?

"So, follow my lead here. We'll clear the floor, shimmy out a window on the side of the property; it's right against the trees. I scouted my exits before I got here - unlike some people."

Castle turned and yanked open the door, got a faceful of Beckett's gun. "Stand down, Beckett. What the hell is Hunt talking about - my father providing _back-up_?"

"Explain later," she said tersely. "But it's all we got right now, so if you want us to get out of here-"

Castle shut the door on her, fury in a tight, hot ball in his throat. He gestured for Hunt to go first, leaving Kate at the top of the stairs with Walker, and they quietly began to work the hall.

He texted her when the first floor was clear and she and Walker crept out of the stairs, hurrying to meet them at the far end. Kate's shoes were in one hand, a look on her face that he chose not to argue with. Hunt had secured the fire exit stairwell, and so they began to climb.

"Why are we going up?" Kate hissed.

"He scouted a window escape," Castle muttered. He wasn't sure he believed Hunt but from the sounds that rose to them from the atrium, the second floor hallway wasn't going to be clear for long. The security team was probably concentrating on the back command center, but eventually someone was going to remember that access stairs they had just used.

Hunt's shoes made an odd echoing sound in the stairwell that Castle didn't like, but it could be because he was actually _wearing_ shoes. Castle had left his with Beckett and she'd put them on Threkeld - or he hoped she had, since the man had been in tatters - and Beckett's shoes were ruined in her hand.

Or it could be that Hunt had a tracker in his shoe. A small device in the sole that was causing that metallic-

"Here we are," Hunt said, easing open the stairwell door. This was the business side of the embassy's main building and the floor was pitch black, the carpeting industrial, the paint well-worn. Nothing like the marble finishings in the atrium.

"You first," Kate told Ethan. "Lead the way."

Castle reached out and squeezed Kate's free hand, Walker bumping between them - apparently having used the pause on the landing to work some kind of magic. He held up the palm-sized tablet in triumph.

"I did it. I got it. Everything's erased."

"Was it sent out?" Castle asked, ushering the man over the threshold with Kate at his back.

"There's no 'out' to send it to. He was using the embassy's in-house network to call up the guest list and then he cross-checked your name to the skimpy background check they'd done. None of this was even google-searched, so I deleted some history, the cache, those normal things, and then I rewrote jibberish on top of your names in the guest list.

"Won't they know that-"

"They won't know unless they look very, very carefully. And even then, all they'll get is that three names were erased from their database. I did his too, throw them off."

"You erased our names from the guest list?" Kate asked, pushing up between them.

"Yes. I figured-"

"You figured right," Castle sighed. "Thank you. God. Thank you-"

"You should be in the clear. I got on their network and checked traffic and he didn't send any emails, didn't report to anyone. I assume you... ah, took care of him?"

"It's taken care of," Castle said quickly. "And now we need to get out of here. Can you hang on to that thing without it being tracked?"

"For now, yes. I can do a more extensive wipe of the tablet when we get back to the safe house."

"Then put it in your pocket and let's hustle."

Just then, Ethan appeared as if from nowhere, an open door and his smug, arrogant grin. "I got it. Right here. Come on."

* * *

Castle stayed in the back of their group while Kate and Walker followed Ethan inside what turned out to be some kind of executive boardroom. She scanned the room quickly, noted the luxury, and then she saw the balcony at the far end of the panel of windows. It had tables set up like a cafe, maybe to take lunch meetings out there.

"Balcony leads where?" she asked Hunt.

"It's something of a drop," he warned her, glancing back at Walker. At least Walker had good shoes. "But if we go the slow route, it's a shimmy down a pillar to a first floor porch at the back. The roof is flat and houses HVAC vents, that kind of thing."

"Let's see it," she told him. Hunt turned and opened the sliding glass door, and immediately an alarm sounded.

Hunt swore but Castle was already shoving them out onto the balcony, pushing at them from behind to get going. Kate ran to the far end of the modern cafe set-up, pressed her hips into the metal railing to lean forward and look down.

It was something of a drop all right. The first floor with its vaulted windows and atrium ceiling meant the porch roof was closer than it should have been, but it was still a long way down.

"Kate?"

"I can do it," she told him. "Walker? What about you?"

Walker peered over the edge and then back to the sliding glass door. "I guess I have to, don't I? I can do it."

He probably couldn't.

"When you drop, you gotta roll," Castle told him. "Don't land on your feet, let your knees bend and absorb the energy and roll into it."

"All right," Walker said.

"Or you can climb down-" Kate started, but she stopped, all four of them looking at each other. They didn't have time for a climb, and they all knew it. Embassy security would know already which alarm had been breached and be coming for them.

"Hunt, you first," she said.

Ethan put a foot on the railing and swung around like a monkey, gripping the metal bars with both hands on the other side now. His feet swung for a second and then he dropped, making a crunching sound as he hit the porch roof.

But he rolled and came up cleanly, started heading to the far edge, not even looking back. He disappeared over the first-floor roof's edge in a second.

They were on their own, no doubt.

Kate went next, rolling over the railing and lowering herself down inch by inch until she hung from just the concrete slab of the balcony. She didn't look at Castle; she knew he was holding it in, everything, all of it.

Kate let go and felt her dress flutter around her legs and the warm air like a caress, and then she hit the roof and rolled, her knees and hips stinging but okay. She had to be okay. She got to her feet and gave a thumb's up above her, and she saw the grim determination on Castle's face as he turned to Walker.

But Walker was already climbing out on the ledge.

* * *

He had to admit - Walker had guts taking that leap.

Beckett had been so very right when she'd said that publicly forgiving the man would create the strongest loyalty. He had jumped off a balcony for goodness sake.

Castle followed easily, rolling and coming up on his feet without a hitch even as Kate sighed at him. She had no room to sigh. Her pregnant self had taken that fall like a professional and while that was good for this mission, for escaping alive, it bothered him on another level.

What were those pills _doing_ to her?

She took his hand as they ran across the top of the flat roof, dodging vents and pipes, boxy contraptions with no names, metal ductwork. Hunt was gone, disappeared, but Castle didn't want to be responsible for Hunt anyway.

Hunt had no idea about him, about the regimen. If he got caught, it might actually work in their favor. A convenient patsy.

At the end of the roof was a massive oak tree shading the far side of the building, and it was easy to reach out and grab a limb, move deeper into its branches and then down the far side of the trunk. Even Walker didn't seem to have a problem, though his face was red and he was sweating by the end of it.

They landed on the soft grass just inside the fence and Castle took out his phone, called Esposito.

"Where are you?"

"Northwest corner by the fence. Wooded area. Can you extract?"

"I damn well will."

Castle heard the call of security guards near the front and then Beckett clutched a fistful of his jacket, urgency in her grip. "Castle-"

A voice boomed out. "What the hell are you doing?"

Castle pivoted towards the man, drawing his weapon, but it was only Hunt coming out of the trees, running an avoidance pattern. "Hunt-"

"I told you to _wait there for me. _I turn around and you guys are running off into the trees."

"You bolted," Castle growled. "You _left_ us."

"I was going to get the damn fire escape ladder. Unlike _you_, I had an actual _plan_. I had contingencies in place."

"We had a plan, and then your arrival kinda shot it all to hell," Castle roared, shoving hard on Hunt's shoulders.

"Rick!" Kate stepped into him, hands snagging his wrists and holding him to her. He glanced down and the flicker of fear behind her eyes made his guts clench.

"Kate-"

"We have to _go_," she said intensely. Her head turned back to Hunt. "We have to go. What was the plan?"

Hunt threw him a wary look, but he pointed vaguely towards the eastern corner of the campus. "I scouted an exit through the fence. We can make our escape there."

"Rick," Kate said softly. He glanced down at her and she had scooped up the phone; he hadn't realized he'd dropped it when he'd confronted Hunt. She gave it back him, her fingers lingering over his palm. "Sometimes we have to accept help from him. Sometimes our goals line up just right."

He didn't believe that for a second, but there was no other choice. "Hunt. Lead on."

He did, and they followed Hunt as he wound deeper through the trees, circling away from the corner where Castle had asked Esposito to meet them. He pressed the phone to his ear with his shoulder. "Espo?"

He heard the chatter of guns and the scream of a car horn as someone went by at a high rate of speed. A car chase. Shit.

"Esposito?"

"I'm - uh - I'm here. What do you need me to do?"

"Are you fucking taking fire?"

"Yeah. Mitch split off with Threkeld. I'm the decoy. You got some Collective bastards out here, you know."

"Look, we're following Ethan Hunt." He lifted his chin and risked calling out to the man. "Hunt. You have a vehicle out there? Because ours left with the doc."

"I got wheels. I had an actual plan, you arsehole."

He gritted his teeth and spoke into the phone. "You hear that, Espo?" Castle glanced over at his wife to see if she'd caught Hunt's snide remark, but Beckett was hurrying Walker. Castle could see that the man had been injured - probably twisted an ankle or knee jumping from the balcony - and he was slowing them down.

"Espo?" he said into the phone, hurrying to Walker's side. He got a shoulder under Walker's armpit and carried most of his weight. "We have a ride. You be safe."

"I got - got you. I'll circle back-"

"No. You just get the hell out of here, Espo. We'll rendezvous in New York, got me?"

"Naw, man. You need-"

"Beckett and I have this handled. You're too hot right now."

"I am not fucking leaving you guys," Espo growled.

"Yes you are, Esposito. That's a damn order." Castle ended the call and shoved the phone into his pocket just as Hunt led them to the fence.

There was a guard gate.

"What the hell?" Beckett hissed, grabbing Walker and keeping him back. "Hunt. What the _hell_-"

"It's abandoned," Ethan said smoothly. "I did my research. They don't use the back entrance because it's so wooded - their security chief suggested it would be too easy for snipers. So they locked it up back here, but I busted the lock about six hours ago when I got the call. We can crawl through the guardhouse to the other side."

"The call from Black," Castle said dryly, pressing Kate back with a hand when she started to step forward. They were still in the thick of the woods on this side of the property and he could hear the guests even from here, the sound echoing against the tree trunks.

Either they'd gotten really lucky, or Espo and Mitch's break-out had been so spectacular that the embassy security forces didn't know they still had unwanteds on their soil. He was guessing the latter, since Esposito was taking fire.

"Hunt, you first," Castle said, shifting in front of Kate and Walker both to hold them back.

Hunt tossed him a condescending look, but he slid out from the shadow of the trees and made straight for the abandoned guard house. He used his elbow to bust out a window that seemed to have been previously weakened. It was smart - it's what Castle would have done himself, if they'd needed a secondary escape route.

But they hadn't researched this mission like they usually did; they hadn't put the time into making it perfect and working out every kink because they didn't _have_ the time.

And how, exactly, had _Hunt_ had the time? It was Castle's father who had found Threkeld's location for them. When had his father known about the Austrian Embassy? When had he sent Hunt - only six hours ago?

Ethan reached through the splintered remains of the window and gave a wrenching shove, and then the door was cracking open. He really _had _come to back them up, Castle didn't doubt that now, but what he wondered was whether or not Hunt had been here long before them.

He didn't have time to stop and interrogate the man. Kate was pushing past him, herding Walker ahead of her, and she gave Castle a measured look as if to say, _trust him or not - this is our only option._

She was right. Walker wasn't an agent and Beckett was pregnant. Hunt was their only option.


	12. Chapter 12

**Close Encounters 19**

* * *

Kate was in the front seat of the small, European car with Hunt who was driving, leaving Castle and Walker in the back. Castle was checking their weapons - what they had left - and listening to Walker explain something about the tablet. Kate gripped the door handle as they screamed around a corner too fast, but she couldn't keep from falling into Hunt.

His hand on the gear shift came up quickly to grab for her, and Kate stiffened, an angry retort dying in her mouth. But his fingers, as they gentled, brushed unmistakably against her breast on their withdrawal.

She stared at him.

"Seat belt," he said, his voice a little rough, a little low. Dangerous.

Kate shifted away from him, glancing over her shoulder to look at Castle. She'd quelled her own indignation at the way Hunt had touched her because Castle already was so pissed, so mistrustful, but he was doing something to the tablet and not paying attention to them.

So Kate snagged the seat belt and looped it around her knee rather than her waist, the dress making it awkward, her hands shaking for some reason. The cross-body strap still dug into her breasts, but at least the lap belt wouldn't cut into her stomach.

She didn't know if that mattered or not, but she wasn't taking chances if Hunt crashed them. The DC roads were well-marked and laid out in a nice pattern, making it easy for a car chase. But no one had followed him off the property, no one had even seemed to know they'd been there.

She was suddenly so damn grateful that Castle had bid for that painting under an alias. She'd been ticked at him for messing around, thinking he was making things more complicated for them, but he'd been right.

Never leave a trace behind.

At least now it looked like the distinguished Mr. Thomas Crown had struck again - only this time he'd stolen a man from custody rather than a priceless work of art. She would laugh if she wasn't sure it would sound a little hysterical.

"It was an accident. You were falling," Hunt said quietly.

Kate shot him a swift look. "Don't."

"It didn't mean anything-"

"Does it look like I even _care_?" she hissed. She did though, something... he had been the one to make her look like a fool in London. She'd been frustrated with Castle's bullying and his damn rules and she'd pickpocketed a dignitary for his wallet just to show Castle up.

And nearly caused an international incident.

Hunt was stone-faced beside her. She glanced back and saw Castle had shouldered his way forward, his gaze glancing between them. Kate lifted her hand and he immediately caught it, squeezing her fingers.

"You can let us out up here," Castle said.

"Don't be stupid. You need-"

"You can fucking let us out or I will shoot you."

"The car will crash. Your wife is pregnant. Don't be moronic."

"She has a seat belt on," Castle said calmly. He let go of her hand and brought his gun up between the seats. "Pull over."

They were maybe ten miles from the embassy. Kate wasn't sure that was exactly smart, but she wasn't willing to keep going with Hunt either.

His appearance here all from London seemed ill-timed. Had he already been in DC when he got the call from Black? Or had he known what was going down that far ahead of them?

Hunt sighed and glanced to her as if _she_ would talk sense into Castle.

But her husband wasn't bluffing. He'd shoot Hunt somewhere non-vital because the man had saved their lives and he'd leave Hunt here. She didn't think that was smart at all - he was a witness to their activity tonight - but she wasn't going to argue.

"Pull over, Ethan," she said softly.

He growled and jerked the car towards the curb, thumping the steering wheel hard with his flat palm. "You're making a huge mistake."

"You're in league with a man who has tried numerous times to murder my wife," Castle said. "This isn't a mistake - it's protecting what matters most to me."

The car came to a crunching stop, the front bumper scraping the curb, and Kate released her seatbelt and opened the door before Hunt could try anything. Castle hustled Walker out ahead of him and slapped the top of the car.

"Go. Get out of here. Back to wherever you were summoned from."

Hunt called through the passenger door even as Castle shut it. "Can't you just _listen_-"

"You've done your job. Stop protesting." Castle turned back to them and nodded, and Kate and Walker headed for the alley between the two office buildings, passing a couple dumpsters crammed into the narrow space.

Hunt didn't try to follow, and finally they heard the sound of the car pulling away, the front bumper crunching as it released the curb.

Walker stumbled and Castle caught him.

"Hey, you okay?" Kate said, glancing at Castle with a look.

Walker waved them off and eased upright. "Old football injury. My knee gives. I won't slow you down though. I can walk through it."

"You're fine, Walker," Castle said quietly. "We're just old friends out for a stroll."

"Without shoes," Walker said, glancing down.

"Ah," Castle murmured.

"Rick Castle," Kate growled. His eyes snapped to hers and he grinned, a slow and delicious thing that made her skin tingle with awareness.

"Yeah, bad habit, baby." He reached out and took her wrist in his fingers, almost delicately. "Never again."

She blinked, surprised by the emotion behind his voice. It had become a joke with him, her getting frustrated with his non-response answer of _ah_, and she'd only been trying to lighten his mood.

But he brushed a kissed to her cheek. "Love you."

She caught a breath and smiled back at him. "Love you too."

"I hate to interrupt," Walker said, clearing his throat. "But it's nearly midnight and stores are closed. And neither of you are wearing shoes."

* * *

Castle held her hand as they walked in their formal wear down the sidewalk, shoeless. DC was probably the only city in the country they could do that safely; it was so clean here, especially near the Capitol, that he hardly even noticed his bare feet.

"You okay?" he heard her murmur to Walker. The man still had the tablet in his hands for safe-keeping, but his knee didn't seem to be bothering him too badly. Or he wasn't letting them know.

"We'll head to the DC safehouse, see if we can't meet up with Mitchell and Threkeld."

"Did they text you back?" she asked him.

"I got a text saying they'd arrived cleanly, but nothing from Espo. As soon as we get there, I'll go back out for him."

Kate didn't say anything to that, though he could read her hesitation. She wouldn't leave Esposito behind - he knew that - but she wanted to be the one to go out after him.

But she couldn't. No way.

"Can we ride the metro?" Walker asked finally. "I'm not sure how much farther I can walk. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. There's a stop just past the Capitol. Maybe two more blocks. You okay to do that?"

"Yes." Walker nodded as if to convince himself, but even in the darkness, Castle could see the man was enjoying it. The thrill.

He knew the feeling. He glanced over at his pregnant wife to check in with her and she merely shook her head softly, smiling at him. He had no doubt she was good to go; she always was.

Her fingers tightened around his and he remembered the look on her face when Hunt had said _it didn't mean anything._ Whatever it had meant, whatever it was they'd been talking about, it was nothing compared to this, and he wasn't worried.

He never had to worry about her. He might hate Ethan Hunt all the more, but his wife was steady. She had his back.

"Partners," she murmured to him.

He used the cover of darkness to steal a soft, thankful kiss.

* * *

When they got to the safehouse, Esposito was at the front door to greet them, an automatic rifle in one hand and his kevlar strapped on. He looked ready to make war; he looked ready to take on a whole damn embassy alone.

Despite Castle's direct order.

Castle pulled back a fist and landed a solid punch. Espo staggered and Kate jerked forward, but Castle crowded her out, dragging Espo out of the hall.

"I told you to fly back to New York," Castle snarled.

"You made the rendezvous," Espo answered, glancing past him to Beckett. "Beckett, I was-"

"Disobeying a direct order," Castle growled. He angled the man back into the living room and shook him by the bulletproof vest. "_Agent _Esposito."

"Fuck off. She's my boss. Not you. I told you that going in to this thing. She's my partner and I won't leave her behind."

"You gave her a gun and let her come back into the embassy because _she's_ your boss," Castle said, shoving on him again. Espo wasn't even trying to break free. The gun in his hand was nothing. He knew what he'd done.

"She would have gone with or without me," Espo said hollowly. It was echoed in his eyes. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You fucking stop her," Castle growled, getting in close. "You stop her because I depend on you to make better choices than that. I depend on you-"

"Stop. Stop it," Kate shouted. She was shoving on him now, breaking him off of Esposito. "What the hell, Castle?"

"I gave him orders. I told him not to allow you back inside the security zone, and especially not fucking alone. He disobeyed. I _also_ told him to fly the fuck home, didn't I, Javier?"

Esposito ignored him.

Mitchell was getting into it now, grabbing Espo by the arm and leading him away. But Castle wasn't done; this wasn't over. He'd-

"No."

He jerked his gaze back to Kate and she was standing to one side. Not in front of him, not blocking him, but at his side. "Kate."

"No. You're mad at me, be mad at me. If you can't bring yourself to discipline _me_, then you sure as hell aren't taking it out on Espo."

Suddenly they were completely alone in the living room; everyone had melted away.

"Are you?" she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Like that, the pregnancy was almost unnoticeable, hidden by shadows. But he knew.

"Am I what," he rasped, his heart still thundering.

"Punishing me." She stared him straight in the eye. "You gonna hit me, Castle?"

"Kate."

"Are you?"

"_No_."

"Then don't punch anyone else. It was my decision."

She didn't say it had been the right one, and he was glad for _that_ at least. Hell. "I'm pissed off."

"I couldn't tell," she deadpanned.

He gave a gruff, involuntary laugh and Kate walked towards him, arms loosening now to slide around his waist. He clutched the back of her neck. "I'm not sorry."

"Yes, you are," she murmured, bringing her hips against his. It was a strange fit; he could feel the baby there, cradled between them.

"No, I'm not."

"You'll apologize to him later," she said quietly.

He finally looked in her eyes, still angry, still wishing he could just - he really had the urge to tear something apart, but she was waiting on him to be better than that. To be the man she deserved.

"I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Well, you're getting there," she chuckled. She shifted against his side and drew her hand down his arm, found his fingers. She played there a moment and then she pressed his palm to her stomach, the lace of the dress catching his skin. "Can you feel him?"

He caught his breath and waited, straining for it. "No," he sighed.

"I can," she murmured. "Though he's settling down now. Just when you got angry."

"Oh."

Her fingers came over his and trailed his touch up and down. "And when you were in trouble," she whispered. "When we were in trouble, I could feel him."

"You said like - tickling?"

"Popping bubbles. One at a time," she said. She was smiling now, sharing it with him, and he framed her hips with his hands and then embraced her, unable to hold it back.

"I don't want to punish you," he rasped at her cheek. "I just want - I want you."

"I'm here."

* * *

The CIA Director escorted them home to New York personally on his private jet. He'd been in DC for a meeting on the Hill anyway, and he'd taken offense that a US doctor and scientist had been snatched by some murky international organization with ties to the Austrian Embassy.

Threkeld slept.

Castle wouldn't let the Director wake him; they weren't sure what had been done to the man. Kate had reminded him that if sleep could come, then let the doctor have it. It might not for a while.

She and Castle sat on the floor outside the Director's on-board bunk, separated from Threkeld's sleeping form by only the closed door. Mitchell and Esposito were up front selectively debriefing the Director, but despite Castle trying to get her to sit in one of the plush, contoured seats with a seatbelt, she wasn't going anywhere.

"I want him to see our faces when he wakes," she told him finally. "So stop trying to make me leave."

He sighed but his body slumped into hers, slouching so that their shoulders touched and his cheek came to the top of her shoulder. She held him up, chuckling, and he stretched his legs out in front of him as the plane bumped through a little turbulence.

They'd quietly compared notes back in the safehouse, filling each other in on the circumstances of each decision, letting the stories comfort, the words ease them both. It wasn't that he didn't trust her judgment, and it wasn't that she didn't think he could handle himself, it was about making it out of there with everyone alive.

They'd managed that, at least. Even if Wilson and the Collective had gotten what they'd needed from Threkeld. They still didn't know.

"I think we did it," he said. His fingers trailed over the top of her thigh idly. "Didn't we?"

"We got him back," she said hesitantly.

"If he'd have... if the Collective had gotten my identity from him, we'd have known."

"But we showed up as the Rodgers, not the Castles," she reminded him. "There _is_ no record of Richard Castle. He's a spy. They might still know they're looking for a man. A former soldier."

"Would it really have been such a long shot - Rick Rodgers to Rick Castle? I showed up right under Wilson's nose and he didn't catch on?"

"With my rather infamous reputation," she countered, "I bet he wouldn't have even thought twice."

"I don't know." Castle shifted so that now he was sitting up, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her against him, switching their roles, comforted to comforter. "The Collective thinks they're looking for a serum, a set of blueprints to build the perfect soldier - like the directions in a Legos set."

She snorted. "You don't know what Legos even _are_."

"I do too," he huffed back, squeezing her shoulders. His chin dropped to the top of her head. "I was looking for some for James."

She turned her face into his sweat-stained tuxedo shirt, closing her eyes. "You were."

"And GI Joes. I always - I used to have one. Back when they were bigger, like the size of a-"

"Doll?" she murmured, lifting her head to smile at him.

"Action figure," he said, narrowing his eyes. "A real action figure."

"Uh-huh." She laughed at the way his temper sparked; how easy it was to get him. "You had a GI Joe?"

"Martha - my mother bought it for me for Christmas. When I was four. It was a really big deal; I had it with me all the time."

"What happened to it?" she murmured.

"Toys were for children. Babies," he said, clearing his throat. "James should be able to play with toys as long as can. For as long as we can possibly-"

"He will," she soothed, taking his hand. "He'll invent his own toys; kids do that. He'll make up wild stories and go on expeditions through the woods behind the cabin. He'll probably dress Sasha up or try to ride her-"

Castle laughed and the sound rumbled out of him, relief and happiness both, the reverberations echoed by the movement of the plane.

"He'll play," she said finally. "He'll be just fine."

But she knew that she couldn't simply _will_ it to be true. A large part of whether or not James was going to be fine rested on the continued silence of the man asleep at their backs.

If Threkeld had talked, though.

* * *

"Biological weapons," Threkeld said. He didn't even bat an eye, didn't even look over at Castle to confirm that this was the story he was supposed to be telling. He just knew; he was with it enough for that.

The Director frowned and sat back. "The strain that nearly took Agent Castle from us."

"Yes," Threkeld answered. He was sitting stiffly in the seat, and whatever tell he had for lying was swamped by the definite pain he was in.

"That's enough," Kate said, standing up. The Director gave her a cool look for interrupting his debrief, but he didn't challenge her.

Shit. Only Beckett could get away with that.

Kate helped Threkeld to his feet but the man was struggling to go it alone. "Your wife is right outside," Kate told him, heading towards the door.

They'd brought everyone back to the Office; they weren't sure what to do with their lab team now that the Collective knew about Threkeld. They couldn't go back to their old lives, that was for sure, but they also didn't know how secure Stone Farm might be.

Castle was all for having the team closer. There were a lot of decisions to be made.

For now the Director seemed mollified, if somewhat suspicious. Castle had given him the name of the Collective, and Mr Wilson, because they were an actual terror threat, but he had held back the connection to his father's work.

That could never go on the record. And as such, they were now keeping secrets from the Director - just as Black had done.

Castle knew it was bad; he knew he was feeding into the same cycle his father had created. But he didn't know how to stop it. There were no other options.

The Collective had eyes and ears across the world, and they'd gotten to Threkeld, so it was only a matter of time. No one could know that Castle was the living embodiment of the project they hunted.

Because he had a family to protect. A son who would need him, might need more from the regimen than they even knew.

And Kate.

Kate was everything. And he was hers. If the Collective got hold of him, it was over. If the Collective knew... but Threkeld hadn't revealed their secret.

Oh, he had _talked_ alright. He had talked. There wasn't a whole lot that could prevent a civilian from wanting that kind of anguish to end. But the questions had been about reproduction of the regimen, and their knowledge was thankfully incomplete; there was still some mystery to the reason why it worked at all, and the Collective had asked about animal trials.

Threkeld had talked about the rats.

Which didn't make Castle feel great about his wife taking those pills, but it did mean that the Collective didn't know there was a living man made from their program.

He and Kate would just have to keep it that way.

This was their new mission. The mission of their lives.

* * *

**The End of Close Encounters 19: Thunderball**

**Stay Tuned for Close Encounters 20: Happy and Glorious **(it IS a James Bond film, I swear)

for a full listing of my fanfic, check out my super cool library tumblr (made by jyleafer15) at writingwell dot tumblr dot com slash library


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